Hope Against Hope
by reflect.clouds
Summary: Set after season 2 episode 3. Marian's cousin is paying a visit to assist her father, bringing along a maid who is more than she appears to be. RobinMarian, GuyOC, AllanDjaq, WillOC.
1. Unwanted Visitors

**Hi! This is my first Robin Hood fanfiction so please review, it'll persuade me to continue!!**

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Her horse's hooves thudded against the soft earth, sending fallen leaves spinning wildly through the air. They were a golden shade of yellow, a sure sign that autumn was on its way. The air was growing colder, the clouds greyer, food scarcer. Everywhere she looked Lady Marian could see tell-tale signs: the animals retreated to their homes for hibernation, the poor desperately pulled their few coins together to pay for the all too necessary cloaks and woollen garments, and the woods became deserted as the skies grew darker and children retreated to the relative warmth of their homes. Today however, she saw none of this. She was too caught up in her own furious, distracting thoughts.

It had been no small feat to get out of the castle. Now that the sheriff had imposed house arrest on her and her father, it had taken all of her persuasive skills to be allowed out for a ride through the woods. The Sheriff had grudgingly agreed, threatening that if she was not back after three hours, he would kill her father. This had only served to make her more frustrated, and she rode heavier than usual, the horse's pounding hooves providing a rhythm to her thoughts. Stopping in a clearing, she whistled sharply. She didn't have to wait long.

"What can I do for my fine lady today?" Robin Hood asked with a grin, stepping out from behind a tree. Then he caught sight of Marian's expression. "What happened?" Marian took a deep breath.

"My cousin is coming to stay!" She told him angrily. Robin frowned.

"Which one?" Marian had numerous cousins, most of them female and most of them identical. Robin had never been able to remember the names of more than one per visit.

"Lady Roseanna Woodsen," Marian answered, mocking the girl's full title. "My wonderful aunt and uncle decided that my youngest cousin should be sent to assist me in the caring of my father."

"The problem with that is...?" Robin asked as they began to make their way to the underground base Will Scarlett had built for him.

"I can't stand my cousins! Robin, you know that. Don't you remember when they used to visit?" Robin had a sudden, vivid flashback of a fifteen-year-old Marian's reaction when she'd heard of her cousin's upcoming stay. He winced.

"Maybe she's changed. How old was she when you last saw her?"

"Eleven," Marian admitted grudgingly. "I didn't have much to do with her. Her sisters were mainly unbearable. She has four, you know."

"Have I met them?" Robin asked. He vaguely recollected a band of giggling girls filling Marian's house and Marian stubbornly locking herself in her room. Marian thought hard.

"I think so. It would've been when I was twelve. She was eight then, so you probably won't remember her, but you'll remember her older sisters. They were nightmares."

"Was one tall and blonde?"

"That would be Serena, the eldest. She's the worst, always looking in a mirror, pulling at her curls and batting her eyes-" She was cut off as they reached the base, and Robin helped her inside. The rest of his gang was already there, and they greeted her enthusiastically.

"What's the news?" Allan called out to her, with the grin that seemed to be permanently fixed across his face. Before Marian could retort, Robin answered for her.

"Marian's having a relative coming to stay for a while." Marian snorted then caught herself. Snorting was unladylike.

"It'll be for a while, I can assure you. My Aunt may say she's sending her youngest to assist her ailing brother, but I know the real reason. With her out of the way, that's one less dowry to afford, though from what I can remember of the girl she wouldn't be getting many offers." Djaq grinned behind her hand.

"Surely that is slightly unfair," she pointed out. "I'm sure this girl cannot be that bad. She is merely a girl, after all."

"If she's anything like my other cousins, she'll be that bad and more," Marian sighed, coming to sit with the gang.

"Who are your cousins?" Much asked, intrigued.

"The Woodsens," Marian replied darkly.

"You mean Lady Serena Woodsen?" Allan asked excitedly, looking over at Will.

"That would be one of them, yes," Marian answered in confusion, looking over at Robin, who shook his head with a grin. "How do you know her?"

"Why she's told to be the most beautiful lady in the land!" Allan elatedly, grinning at Will, who was smiling too. Marian's expression darkened dangerously. "I've heard she's got hair like spun gold and eyes like sapphires! A lot of men would give anything to catch sight of her, I tell you."

"Beautiful? Her?" Marian spat venomously. "She's the most obnoxious, insolent, selfish, conceited-"

"I think that's enough," Robin cut her off with a wide grin as Will and Djaq stifled laughs. "She's not the one staying anyway." Allan's face fell.

"Who is?" He asked sadly.

"Her sister, Roseanna," Marian replied, looking slightly smug at Allan's expression. "I doubt she's half as attractive as her older sister; none of the others were."

"Just how many of them are there?" Much asked incredulously.

"Five," Marian told him. "Serena is the eldest child. Then there's Eleanor, Christiana and Arabella. Roseanna is the youngest."

"Imagine living with five women," Robin groaned. "Imagine the fuss! How would you ever make a quick decision?" Djaq and Marian glared.

"Where I come from, it is normal to have many children," Djaq commented. "I know families with eight, nine daughters. It is not such a big deal." She sent a pointed look at Robin.

"Trust me, if they were my cousins it would be," Marian sighed. Then she stood. "I must get back. If I don't...needless to say, the consequences are far from pleasant."

"Look after yourself," Robin frowned.

"Don't I always?" Marian smiled, a trace of good humour flickering across her lips as she stepped out of the base. Then she was gone.

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It was a chilly morning when Lady Roseanna Woodsen made her appearance. Seeing as Marian and her father were under house arrest, Lady Roseanna would stay in the castle along with them. It was with the Sheriff and Sir Guy of Gisborne, therefore, that Marian was standing on the cold steps of the castle. Her father, due to illness, was confined in his room, leaving Marian to welcome their guest alone.

At another blast of cold wind, Marian pulled her cloak tighter, scowling. She wished the wretched girl would just arrive and be done with it. She did not appreciate having to dress up in her best to welcome her younger cousin, and fidgeted with the sleeves of her dress in irritation. Sir Guy and the Sheriff didn't seem to mind the cold; on the contrary, the Sheriff was smiling pleasantly into the wind. Marian frowned, wondering what he was so happy about. If he was laughing at her expense, then she would not be pleased at all.

Suddenly, the gates began to open, admitting an elaborate carriage. Marian had always hated the fact that her relatives were better off than her – her father could never have afforded such a carriage. Two servants jumped from the front, hurrying to open the carriage door. Marian held her breath as her cousin stepped out. She was everything Marian was not. Taller, curvier, even her skin was paler and smoother. Golden ringlets hung down to mid-back, framing huge blue eyes. Her nose was small and delicate, her lips a perfect pout. Her dress, unlike Marian's, was sky blue and elaborately embroidered. She gave a beautiful smile.

"It is so good to see you again, Cousin Marian!" She announced with a sweeping curtsey, and Marian hated her immediately.

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Did you like it? If you're wondering why I've created a Mary Sue, don't worry...I never said she was going to be a good character, did I? My good character will be introduced in the next chapter, but only if I get some reviews!**


	2. From Past to Present

**Unbelieveably, the second chapter is up! I finished this at 11pm and can only hope it's any good - I did try though! This chapter you'll be introduced to my second OC, as well as a bit more of Roseanna and some of Guy's POV. Review and enjoy!!**

**A note to pinkkittyx - thought you said you weren't going to read it?? Ha! Gotcha!**

**Disclaimer: No one in this fic is mine. Apart from Roseanna and Kioka of course. I wish I owned Will...sob sob**

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_A dazzlingly bright sun shone over bronze walls into a huge garden. Glowing copper paths wound through vivid green trees and blazing red flowers, beside carved statues and elegant fountains. Golden petals floated through the air against a brilliant blue sky. In the midst of this paradise, two brown-skinned girls lay on the emerald green grass under the shade of huge palm trees. One of them, wearing a ruby red dress, was the eight-year-old daughter of t__he Royal Physician, Safiya. __Her hair was a mass of jet black curls and braids under a sheer veil. __The__ other, in __a shimmering amber dress, was the daughter of the Royal Spymaster, Kioka__, her tumbling ringlets pinned up under a gauzy scarf__. Both girls had known each other since they were three. Safiya smiled._

_"I can barely remember such a beautiful day," she remarked. "So peaceful..."_

_"You wouldn't __even __know there's a war going on," Kioka replied dryly, grinning at her friend._

_"I think you have a talent for ruining a perfect day," Safiya told her, turning onto her front with a smile._

_"I always knew I had hidden gifts," Kioka retorted with a laugh, nudging her friend. _

_"You should add it to your list of 'useful' abilities." Safiya tugged at one of her braids, kicking the ground with her red slippers._

_"Indeed. Speaking of which, have I shown you the __fabulous present father brought me from Indonesia?" _

_"No," Safiya looked down at her friend, who was lying back with her eyes closed. "Show me!"_

_"Alright, one second!"__ Kioka sat up, reaching into her sash and pulling out a pair of unremarkable leather gloves. Safiya raised an eyebrow._

_"Gloves? What's so 'fabulous' about those?" _

_"These are not just any gloves, my friend," Kioka replied with a wink. "These are _cestuses_."_

_"Truly? They don't look like cestuses," Safiya frowned, taking a glove and running her fingers over the brown leather. She had heard many tales of cestuses: gloves with iron plates sewn across the knuckles. If skilled enough, the wearer could even deflect swords with them. Normally they were bulky however, and Kioka's gloves looked completely ordinary._

_"My father had them specially made for me," Kioka grinned, slipping one on. "They're designed as so to be unnoticeable. No one would know these were cestuses until it was too late."_

_"Brilliant!" Safiya gasped.__ "You're so lucky! When we get our turn in battle, I want a pair."_

_"Whenever that may be, Safiya," Kioka gave a wide smile, revealing very white teeth. "I promise though, whenever it is we'll be changing history. After all, there's no one else quite like us."_

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Kioka sighed as she brushed out her mistress' long blonde ringlets. It had been her, of all the lady's maids, who had had to accompany Lady Roseanna to Nottingham. Kioka didn't mind the place itself – it was her ladyship that was the problem. From the moment that the carriage had reached Nottingham, Kioka had known Lady Roseanna would detest the place. After all, compared to the Woodsen estates Nottingham was a pigsty. Her ladyship had high enough standards as it was, and the trip was destined to be a failure. Lady Roseanna hadn't wanted to come to see her family at all; she loathed Nottingham, loathed travelling, loathed her cousin and loathed being away from home. Now, sitting in a small, stone room with simple wooden furnishings, she was ranting her heart out to the poor lady's maid as she perfected her appearance.

"It's not fair!" Lady Roseanna wailed, although she was careful to keep her voice down. Marian had gone out with a guard to procure some decent material for dresses but Edward was next door. "Why did I have to come here? Why me? What did I do wrong that I deserve this punishment?" Kioka held back several retorts as she began to pin the curls into place. "It's like a jail here! Look at it – cold, dirty floors, rough wooden furniture, scratchy rugs and moth-eaten curtains – how can they expect me, a noblewoman, to live in this hovel?"

"If I may say, your ladyship, it isn't half bad. With some new curtains and a bit of cleaning here or there, I'm sure it'll look just as good as your own home."

"You may not say!" Roseanna cried imperiously, ringlets tumbling over her shoulders. Kioka bit back a sigh as she picked up a fallen hair clip and started all over again. "You're a maid, girl, it's not like you would be used to anything better. I, however, have noble blood in my veins – this treatment is an outrage!" Kioka was about to point out they had only been there for two days, but decided it was better to hold her tongue. "And as for Marian...well, I'm disgusted that they bring shame on our family, and I have to come and deal with their lot! She's older than me; she should be doing this herself!" Kioka frowned. She personally liked Marian; since arrival, her duties had been split between Marian and Roseanna. From the little conversation they had had, Marian had seemed Roseanna's opposite: calm and collected, generous and passionate when it came to the poor.

"My ladyship, you must consider that it is not her fault she is under house arrest."

"I must not do anything! And as for Marian, Sheriff Vaysey and Sir Guy of Gisborne seem the very image of gentlemen; it is her own fault if she has angered them. Jilting Sir Guy – how rude and unladylike! As for consulting with outlaws, if she lies with dogs she'll catch their fleas." Roseanna twisted her pretty face into a sneer. "I would never stoop so low. I can hardly believe we're related." Kioka pinned a sapphire butterfly clip in the midst of the tumbling curls and stepped back, keeping silent. For all her cold, selfish personality, Roseanna almost made up for it in appearance. She was her beautiful sister Serena in miniature: perfect loose ringlets, huge sky blue eyes, a rosy pink pout and smooth, pale cream skin. That particular day, she wore an elaborate blue gown with sapphires embroidered across the bodice. Even her figure was perfect. "Are you done?"

"Yes my Lady." Roseanna inspected herself in the floor-length mirror on the wall.

"Not bad," she sniffed, smoothing her skirt, "for a Saracen at least. This mirror is filthy – clean it, Kioka. I am going out. I'll have to get the Sheriff to provide some guards for me. A lady must think of her consequence." With that, she swept out of the room. Kioka let out a muffled scream of frustration into a nearby pillow, before turning to the mirror. It wasn't really dirty at all: she could see herself just fine. A slim, toned Saracen girl with warm brown skin stood before her, jet black ringlets tied back with a spare piece of red ribbon she had found. A few loose strands drifted messily over black, almond shaped eyes. Catlike features complimented her disposition, her full lipped mouth usually twisted into a grin. Her plain, dark maid's dress had loose sleeves to conceal the hidden daggers upon her person.

"Best get started then," she sighed to herself. However, after scrubbing at the mirror for several moments, she decided it would be better to use soap and water. After all, she could always clean the floor while she was at it. Getting up, she slipped out of the door and down the hall. Finally, after asking several guards for directions, she managed to discover the best place to find a bucket of water was in the stables. Shivering, she crossed the cold courtyard, wondering how Lady Roseanna managed to handle the cold. Probably used a fur-lined cloak, or something else just as expensive. Opening the stable door, she gratefully stepped inside the warm building. Her heart went out to the beautiful animals surrounding her, but she had a job to do. Heading to the back of the stable, she picked up a bucket and scooped some water out of the trough. After all, it was as good as anything else she would find. Kioka jumped as the stable door opened again, admitting a rather cold-looking Lady Marian and her horse.

"Lady Marian," she addressed her, giving a quick curtsey and lifting the bucket in both hands.

"Good morning Kioka," Marian smiled. That was another thing Kioka liked about her; she remembered her name. "What's that for?" She gestured at the heavy bucket.

"My mistress would like the mirror cleaned," Kioka explained, propping the bucket on the edge of the trough.

"Oh really?" Marian rolled her eyes. "It would be a tragedy if the good lady was unable to see herself." Kioka stifled a laugh.

"It's not my place to say, Milady," she replied innocently, the picture of ignorant lady's maid. Marian snorted before checking herself.

"What loyalty!" She sighed mockingly. "Lady Roseanna must be so deserving, so kind, so generous! And such beauty! When have you ever seen such beauty?"

"Why, Milady!" Kioka feigned a gasp, continuing the banter. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were mocking my illustrious mistress!" Marian laughed warmly.

"Get upstairs, you," she giggled. "You're not the only one with a job to do, you know." Grinning, Kioka lifted the bucket with both hands and made her way back to the rooms. She managed with only a few spillages, all of which she left in the hope that no one would notice. Entering the room, she began scrubbing at the mirror with a sigh. It was nobles like Lady Marian that made her understand why she had come to England.

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Sir Guy of Gisborne stood in the corridor of Nottingham castle, lost in thought. He was staring out of the window but not really seeing anything. He caught sight of Marian and her guard as they came through the gate. Marian. He sighed and rubbed his temples. She had saved his life, admittedly, but for reasons unknown to him. And there was her puzzling speech to him several nights ago. He had tried so hard to be cold, to show none of his true feeling to her. And yet every time she had looked at him with those captivating blue eyes, he had found himself short of breath. Oh God, how it had felt when she had taken his hand in her own, elegant fingers holding his. Why did she affect him so? Why was he so weak to her charms, so powerless before her? She must be a witch, to play with his heart in such a way. How he wished he could be free.

The sound of footsteps on the stone floor caught his attention. He turned to see Marian's cousin, Lady Roseanna Woodsen, standing beside him. Now there was a woman to be infatuated with. Hair like spun gold, eyes like the bluest skies and porcelain skin – it was only too easy to forget Marian while she stood before him.

"Sir Guy, I did not expect to see you here." Her voice was sweet and melodic: an angel incarnate.

"The Sheriff summoned me, Lady Roseanna," he replied, noting with approval her graceful curtsey and following it with a bow of his own.

"But why alone in the corridor, my Lord? Forgive me but you seem dreadfully lonely."

"Not at all, my Lady. Not if you will grace me with your own delightful company." Lady Roseanna smiled, and Guy smiled back. Maybe forgetting Marian was easier than he had thought.


	3. In Her Own Honour

**Another chapter up...it must be because of the half-term! I'll try and do as well when I get back to school! I hope this chapter's good - I really enjoy writing Safiya and Kioka scenes. I've decided there will be one every chapter, because they're so fun. Thanks for all the reviews...I'm sorry Pig-The-Prophetess, but Will's mine!! evil grin**

**Disclaimer: Proud owner of Kioka and not-so-proud owner of Roseanna. I'm still on my quest to own Will sad look**

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"Ha! Take that!" Safiya yelled as she knocked Kioka to the ground, pointing the wooden spearhead at her friend's throat. Kioka grinned. Her hand shot up, grabbing the spear as she twisted her legs to pull Safiya's feet from under her. The other girl hit the dirt with a thump as Kioka sprang up._

_"Not so fast, brave warrior," she teased. "I've still got a few tricks to play." The two girls, now ten years old, were in the courtyard of the Fonfala House. __The gold rays of sunset shone over the tall courtyard walls, a light breeze in the air as the friends practised their combat skills. Kioka's father, Jamal Fonfala, was well aware of the penalties for allowing a woman to practise battle skills, and the towering walls hid the girls perfectly. The Royal Spymaster had made sure that there was no way that they would be caught; he wanted his daughter to make him proud, but knew of the terrible price if they were caught._

_"Cheater," Safiya grumbled, sprawled on the floor. "If I knock you down, it means I win. That's the way it works."_

_"If you're in battle and you knock an enemy down, he's not going to say, 'fair enough then, you win' and just sit there, is he?" Kioka retorted, raising her eyebrow. Then, with a sly grin, she added: "And I'm a spy. What good spy plays by the rules?"_

_"__You're not a real spy."_

_"One day I will be. I have to get in practise." Safiya snorted._

_"Your father won't let you be a spy."_

_"Who says I need permission?" Kioka whispered with a wicked smile. "A spy works alone."_

_"Alone? I suppose you won't need my help then..."_

_"Of course I will! When you become a brilliant physician or warrior, I'll be there watching your back." Kioka levelled the spear and dropped to her knees beside her friend. "After all, who'll look after you if I'm not there?" Safiya laughed._

_"Right. And you'll need me when you get poisoned or you want some secret formula discovered.__"_

_"Naturally," Kioka grinned. "We'll be team unstoppable. The greatest war heroes the world has ever known. Safiya, Warrior Queen and Scientific Genius, alongside Kioka, Master of Spies."_

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It was late afternoon when Marian managed to get out of the castle. For once her contemptuous cousin had come in use. Marian had suggested a ball in honour of her arrival, and Roseanna had taken to it immediately. She had even persuaded the Sheriff to allow Marian to ride to Locksley, believing Marian when she had told her that the best dressmaker lived in Locksley. Roseanna wouldn't want her older cousin to appear in outdated – or worse, inexpensive – clothing; it would embarrass her. Naturally the Sheriff had agreed to her demands – it seemed Roseanna could be terribly persuasive when she turned on her charm. That was one thing Marian could thank her for. The whole week she had been in Nottingham had been dreadful. She took pleasure in flaunting her freedom in Marian's face, always taking at least five guards with her wherever she went, believing it gave her 'consequence'. Every moment when she wasn't making her presence known, she was complaining or looking down on people. She seemed to have taken a liking to Guy though, Marian thought with a grim smile. She wished them luck. As she rode into the forest she gave the whistle and Robin stepped out almost immediately.

"A whole week and no news?" He asked with a frown as she dismounted.

"The Sheriff's tightened security on me," she explained. "After the fiasco with Guy, he trusts me even less. I'm surprised I haven't been imprisoned yet."

"I keep telling you, there's always room for you in my gang."

"And I keep telling you, no. My father needs me, and Roseanna's 'help' is about as useful as a blunt sword." The two walked through the woods together, towards the camp.

"So she's as bad as you were telling us?"

"That and more. Allan will be pleased though – she could rival her sister in appearance. Her personality, however, leaves a lot to be desired." The gang were outside, Much cooking something while the others were sitting beside a large tree. Djaq, cross-legged on a large root, spotted the two first.

"Marian!" Everyone turned, Allan nearly dropping the plate he was holding. "Why so long with no news? We were getting worried."

"A tightening of security, unfortunately," Marian replied, settling herself between Djaq and Little John. "That and being required to entertain my dear cousin."

"So she really is all those things you were calling her?"

"Witchy, contemptuous, rude, ignorant, selfish-" Robin placed a hand over Marian's mouth to stop the flow of insults.

"I think we get the picture," he grinned.

"What does she look like?" Allan asked curiously.

"I'll give her this: she's absolutely beautiful. Golden ringlets, huge eyes the colour of the sky, smooth creamy skin...you name it, she's got it." Allan grinned.

"Can we see her?" That was Will, peering round John at Marian. She shrugged.

"You've got a pretty good chance. She's in Nottingham almost every day, with her guards. Sometimes she brings her lady's maid too. Most of the time the poor girl gets stuck with the cleaning."

"Lady's maid? She must be rich to bring one of those to Nottingham."

"She is. The Woodsen clan are one of the richest in England. Her maid's a clever one though, for all Roseanna puts her down. Now that she's here she has to be my lady's maid as well, but she doesn't seem to mind."

"So you've got a lady's maid now," Robin grinned. "She must be something special, for you not to complain." He referred to a time when Marian, at ten years old, had got her first maid. She had hated it, complaining constantly about lack of privacy and independence, until her father had finally consented to get rid of the girl. Marian shoved his arm with a smile.

"Shut up, you. She is quite something though, I can tell you. A Saracen girl, pretty thing who's stronger than she looks. About your age, Djaq." Allan gave a wicked grin.

"You'd never catch our Djaq as a lady's maid," he remarked. "Not saying you don't look good in a dress of course." Djaq elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow!"

"You deserved that," she told him while the others laughed.

"Oh come on, you'd never be a lady's maid!"

"True, but that doesn't mean I couldn't if I wanted to."

"Well, I never said that, did I?" Allan retorted, earning another jab in the ribs. "Stop that!"

"Behave children," Marian admonished with a smile. "I do have news." The others fell silent to listen. "The Sheriff is furious at how easily you've managed to take the tax money. He plans on replacing the money with fakes, and transporting the real money at night instead. Also, he is changing the guards. The new men are far more trained – they have been hired specially."

"Where is he getting the money to hire them from?"

"I don't know," Marian admitted. "But I do have a hunch. Give me a few more days and I can find out for you. Oh and by the way, my cousin is holding a ball in her honour."

"She's holding a ball for herself?" Will asked in confusion.

"Well, not exactly...she put the idea into the Sheriff's head. It'll be a week from today, so I have to hurry to Locksley to acquire my dress, as so to cover my tracks."

"You best hurry," Much told her, looking up at the sky. "It's getting dark."

"I know," Marian sighed, getting up. "I don't know how long it will be until I see you again, so I wish you good luck with your plans. If I don't appear in the next week, you're free to assume Roseanna has eaten me alive."

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Kioka looked up as the Lady Marian entered their rooms. Her pale cheeks were flushed, her hair windswept. Over her arm she clutched a dark red dress. She glanced around the room momentarily before leaning forward to whisper to Kioka.

"Is she here?" Kioka, who was on her knees scrubbing the stone slabs, shook her head with a grin. She didn't have to ask who Marian meant. "Good." Marian sighed with relief. She held up the dress. It was a dark scarlet fabric, simple design with a hint of embroidery around the neckline. It was beautiful and understated, but Kioka doubted Roseanna would see it that way. "She's not going to like it, is she?"

"It's not my place to say, Milady," Kioka answered, batting her eyes innocently and making her true thoughts clear. No matter how stunning Marian looked, Roseanna would put her down anyway.

"Don't play the innocent," Marian scolded, but she couldn't keep the grin off her face. "We both know she wouldn't like it, no matter what I bought."

"All I'll say is that you may be in for another shopping trip, Lady Marian." She didn't mention what her spy instincts had shown her; Marian had spent more time in the forest than buying a dress. The noblewoman sighed and pushed open the door opposite to greet her father, leaving Kioka deep in thought. Marian was not foolish – she would've gone to Locksley just to verify her story. The nearest forest to Locksley was...Sherwood Forest. Now, what would there be of interest to Lady Marian in Sherwood Forest? Kioka skimmed through all her knowledge of Marian together with her knowledge of Sherwood and came up with one answer. She grinned. Marian's ex-betrothed, childhood friend and current outlaw...Robin Hood.


	4. Nightime Brings Memories

**So here's chapter 5. I have to admit that I had trouble with the Allan/Djaq scene, so please review and tell me if it was ok! I've been trying to keep the canons as in-character as possible. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**Pig-The-Prophetess: Thank you so so much. Of all the stories I've written, this has been the easiest and the best. Your review inspired me to get this chapter up, even if it is 11pm at night! Thanks again, it can be hard to get people to read a story written by a thirteen year old!**

**Kates Master's Sister: Haha! I solved the problem! I thought over an excuse for her name, and here it is! Thanks for reviewing!!**

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"Why are you called Kioka?" A five-year-old Safiya asked, brown eyes wide as she stared at her friend. It was late summer and the leaves above their heads were beginning to transform from green to amber, gold and scarlet. The two girls were enjoying the afternoon sun, taking a picnic in the gardens of Safiya's family home. The Obemaek gardens displayed some of the most beautiful and exotic plants in the world, courtesy of Safiya's physician father who used their various parts for his medicines._

_"That's a silly question," Kioka told her. "It's my _name._"_

_"Yeah, but it's not a normal name. No one else is called Kioka."_

_"Well, maybe I don't want to be everyone else."_

_"You're only saying that because your name's weird." Safiya stuck her tongue out at her best friend. She reached for the plate of biscuits, frowning at the discovery it was empty._

_"No it's not!" Kioka cried angrily and Safiya grinned._

_"Kioka's got a weird name, Kioka's got a weird name..."_

_"I have not!" _

_"Weird name, weird name, weird name..."_

_"Shut up! You're so mean!" Kioka yelled furiously. __Safiya giggled. Kioka glared, and she obediently fell silent, looking down at her plate. _

_"I'm sorry Kioka," she __offered__ apologetically, looking pitifully at her through huge, round eyes. "Your name's not weird."_

_"I forgive you," Kioka stated grandly, reaching over to pat her friend's hand. "Anyway, my name's _special_."_

_"How?"__ Safiya asked sceptically._

_"It's my great-great-aunt's name," Kioka replied proudly. "Father told me."_

_"You have a great-great-aunt? Wow, she must be old!" Safiya's eyes were wide._

_"She's dead now," Kioka explained. "But she was from _China_. My name's from China, so there!"_

_"I wish I had a great-great-aunt from China," Safiya sighed wishfully. "__So I could have a really cool name. __I'm stuck with boring old 'Safiya' forever."_

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Djaq sighed as she sat in camp, on watch duty. She was perched cross-legged upon a tree stump, on top the mound that covered their underground camp, where she could see everything around her. It was late night and the cold wind pierced her thin clothing with ease. She pulled the blanket a bit tighter, longing for hot days and the warmth of a golden sun. It was only at night that she got this ridiculous nostalgia. Djaq firmly believed that regrets were pointless, living in the past even more so. In that day she held to her theory, living for today and her gang. It was in the cold, lonely nights that her mind whispered of home and brought back memories from her childhood.

She didn't miss Safiya most of the time. When the sun was shining, when she was with her friends, when they were helping people she was perfectly content. This life, this name, this role suited her more than her childhood had ever done. However, on this empty night when the moon was invisible, blocked out by black branches and leaves, she admitted to herself that life hadn't been all bad. Indeed, a part of her still held to the precious memories of her youth, the times spent fighting with her brother, learning from her father and playing with her best friend. She did miss it. But only sometimes.

A movement beside her made her jump slightly. It was, surprisingly, Allan. He came to sit beside her, bringing his own blanket up from their underground camp.

"I'm surprised to see you here," Djaq commented. "Normally I have to scream in your ear to get you to wake up for your turn." Allan shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep. Not to mention, Will kept stealing the blankets. So I stole his." He held up the stolen blanket with a grin, and Djaq couldn't help laughing.

"He's not going to be happy at all, when he wakes," she told him.

"I'm not being funny but he shouldn't steal mine then," Allan replied, stretching. "God, it's freezing out here."

"I didn't notice," Djaq remarked dryly. Allan grinned.

"I'd have thought you'd feel the cold more than the rest of us, you know. You come from a desert and all."

"I've got used to it," Djaq shrugged. "I used to mind a lot. You don't know a summer sun's warmth until you've felt it."

"I know how to feel summer just as good as any man can," Allan replied, settling into a more comfortable position on the tree stump beside her. Djaq laughed.

"If you're talking about your English 'summers', then you've got no idea what a real summer is. The hottest I've ever been here is like winter where I come from."

"Now that's unfair," Allan objected. "We've had some pretty good summers. Just you wait until you see a midsummer ball. When the King returns, we'll have a huge one, all of Nottingham. Hundreds of glowing lanterns, lively music, plenty of food and wine of course. All the women dressed in their best, flowers and ribbons in their hair. And all the dancing! Nothing beats a midsummer ball, nothing on earth." Djaq raised an eyebrow, mouth set in a smile.

"I can't wait to see it," she remarked, chin propped up on one hand.

"Of course, I'm the best when there's a ball," Allan continued, waving his hands as he spoke. "Ask anyone. Dancing, drinking, talking – no one beats me at those. I'm not being funny, but one time I went through a whole village of girls in one night. They'll all tell you it was the best night of their life."

"I'm sure they'll mention your modesty too," Djaq put in, grinning.

"It'll be great, just you wait and see. We'll all be there. Me, you, Will, John, Much, Robin - and Marian of course. Robin will be Lord of Locksley, Gisborne will be long gone and –" He suddenly cut himself off, dropping Djaq's gaze. She frowned.

"And what, Allan?" He shook his head slightly, before looking up again, his usual grin marginally smaller.

"Never mind. You get the idea." Djaq wasn't at all fooled, and her expression said as much. "Come on; use your imagination a little. Didn't you ever have a dance where you come from?" Deciding to re-interrogate him later, Djaq shrugged.

"I suppose. For important events. I remember, for the eldest princess' marriage there was a huge ceremony. The entire city was involved, and visitors poured in from all over the world. It was breathtaking. The dancers, the food, the fire eaters and magicians and juggler; the princess made sure that no one would have a marriage quite as grand as hers. The amount of money her dress cost could've bought half the city! The entire over-robe was made of miniature diamonds linked with gold chains. The whole city was a blaze of colours, for a whole week; everyone dressed in their brightest, most expensive clothing. You could dance the whole night if you wanted to, to the most beautiful music in the world." Allan took a deep breath as Djaq trailed off. She gave a slight sigh at the memory of that week, and then shook her head, embarrassed. She hadn't planned on telling him so much, but Allan was so easy to talk to.

"Alright, so maybe we haven't had anything quite like that," he admitted, and Djaq gave a relieved laugh. "I'm not being funny, but I can't think of anything to rival that. You've just made England's best celebration look like my aunt's birthday tea."

"Allan A Dale finally admits defeat? This should go down in history!"

"Not so loud, wouldn't want anyone to find out about it." He put a finger to her laughing lips and she shoved him off the stump.

"You have watch duty," she informed him with a grin as she stepped over him. "And my bed is calling to me. Good night, oh Lord of the Dance."

"That's 'King' to you!" Allan retorted loudly, brushing leaves of his clothes as she walked down the hill laughing.

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Marian couldn't sleep that night. No matter how many times she closed her eyes or changed her position, her mind couldn't rest. Opposite her, Roseanna was bathed in moonlight. She resembled Sleeping Beauty, Marian thought angrily, wishing she could throw her pillow into her smug cousin's face. Even in sleep she looked evil, rosy mouth twisted in a sinister smile. Looking at her only served to increase Marian's frustration, and in vain she turned over and shut her eyes tightly. The sheets were too hot; she realised and threw them off only to discover that she was far too cold without them. Getting out of bed in rage, she ran her hands through her messy black curls. Opening the door, she entered the next room. Her father was asleep peacefully for the first time in weeks; the sight brought a small smile to Marian's tired eyes. Kioka slept on the other side of the room, in case Sir Edward needed anything. She slept curled up in a ball, appearing exhausted as she hugged the blankets to her. Somehow she looked far more innocent when she slept.

The past day had been one of the worst of her life. When Roseanna had seen her dress, the first thing she had done was sneer, 'Is this it? I wouldn't let the maid be seen in that'. After berating and belittling Marian, she had thrust the dress at Kioka and taken Marian out shopping herself. Then followed three torturous hours of Marian standing on a stool while several dressmakers bustled around her. Roseanna stood nearby, offering snide remarks such as: 'That may need letting out to accommodate for my cousin's stomach.' Eventually she had been presented with the most expensive and ugly dress she had ever owned. The very thought of it made her fists clench.

Next to her father's bed was an armchair. Marian climbed into, pulling her knees up to her chest and resting her head against the backrest. Her mind buzzed with thoughts of Roseanna and Robin, Sherwood and Nottingham, her father and the Night Watchman. She closed her eyes, willing herself to sleep. All she needed was a few hours. After all, no one could reach her in her sleep.


	5. Storms and Mirrors

**Here it is, chapter 5. I've just finished watching Robin Hood actually - wow! Brilliant episode, I just loved Will's evil look. Marian looks much prettier with long hair, in my opinion. And as for the preview...cliffhanger! Will he discover Allan's secret? I hope not, as they might kick Allan out, and he's a really good character. Anyway, back to chapter five. I had some fun with this chapter - it's all character building really, not much to move the story forward. Still tell me if I get too emotional and it ruins the story! Don't worry, things will heat up soon. Thanks for the reviews, especially Pig-The-Prophetess. Your reviews make me smile.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Robin Hood, Allan wouldn't be such a twat as to go and betray them. **

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That night, the palace was lit by a thousand golden lanterns. Exotic flowers covered the walls and filled the air with their perfumed scent. Embroidered tapestries covered the walls in swirls of gold, midnight blue and scarlet silk. Tables with dishes made by the best chefs lined the floor of the palace ballroom, solid gold tiles glimmering in the candle light. The best musicians from all over the world were assembled; the ladies and lords of the citadel were arriving. Saracen gentlefolk dressed in their best silks and satins filled the grand hall. Standing near the edge, by a tall column, were the children of the Royal Physician and Spymaster._

_The two boys, teenage Djaq and almost-adult Rasaj, were dressed in white silk shirts and hose, Djaq wearing a dark blue tunic embroidered with dragons. Rasaj wore red embroidered with gold ships and waves. Safiya and Kioka looked like sisters, right down to the identical __looks of annoyance__ on their faces. Safiya was furious at her outfit: a __blood red satin gown patterned with gold flowers and a golden sash, a gauzy scarlet scarf covering her masses of black curls and braids, as well as a sheer veil across the lower half of her face, elaborately embroidered. Kioka's amber gown and fiery orange headscarf and veil lit up her catlike features in a fiery glow, black ringlets pinned back with several golden clips. None of the children wanted to be there, in that beautiful palace that night._

_"This is so boring," Safiya muttered. She knew better than to voice her complaints too loudly; it would mean public embarrassment and put her entire family out of royal favour. Kioka sighed, shaking her curls. A nearby young man__ stared longingly at the two thirteen-year-olds, but one cold look from Safiya sent him scurrying._

_"You're scaring away our prospective suitors," Kioka teased. She hated the idea of forced marriage just as much as Safiya, even though all four children were betrothed. Rasaj, Kioka's older brother, was due to be married next year. Kioka was betrothed to Prince Hakeem, a man five years her senior, and Safiya was betrothed to Lord Ravi of Jimarn. _

_"A tragic loss, I'm sure," Safiya raised an eyebrow sceptically. Another young man approached Kioka, and she smiled graciously but waved him away._

_"Your reputation as a man-hater precedes you," she told Safiya with a grin. "Good behaviour at court brings all sorts of treats and gets you into places you don't even know."_

_"Well at least I'm honest," Safiya retorted. "If I don't like a man, I won't flirt with him!" Yet another man came over to Kioka, offering her his hand. She took it with a charming smile, whispering as she went:_

_"I'm saving up favours for the future, dear Safi. You never know when you'll need one."_

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It was early morning when Kioka woke. Sunlight shone through slats in the curtains as she blearily opened her eyes. She was exhausted; Roseanna had wanted all of her thirty dresses adjusted last night as so to make her look thinner. It had taken half the night to finish them all. Shaking her tired limbs into action, she stretched and stood. A surprising sight greeted her; Lady Marian was curled up, fast asleep in an armchair beside her father's bed. She too looked exhausted. Feeling sympathetic for the sleeping noblewoman, Kioka draped a nearby blanket over her before getting dressed quickly and heading downstairs to heat some water for Roseanna's bath. She decided to get some for Marian too; the girl looked like she could use a warm bath.

Sitting by the fire in the kitchen, waiting for the water to heat, Kioka gazed at the flickering flames. They reminded her of the fire eaters in her home city. Safiya had loved them ever since she could remember, clapping small hands and laughing in delight. A knot in her stomach tightened uncomfortably with the memory of her friend. She was now nineteen – she had been nearly seventeen when she left her home. Her father had sent her here, after the death of her eldest brother, Rikash, believing it would be safer here than in her warring homelands. Only a month before, Safiya and her family had been either taken or killed by slave drivers. She could only hope than the girl who she trusted like a sister was still alive. It had taken half of her family's treasury to ensure her safe, quick passage to England but for Safiya it could've taken over a year.

She missed her best friend. Here in England, without lands or a title to her name, she had never been more alone. Only now did she appreciate the strict but easy lifestyle she had once lived; her new path was a hard and isolated one. Safiya had always managed to make the worst of things better, bringing the sunshine wherever she went, but Kioka didn't have her anymore. And wherever she was, Kioka was sure it was ten times worse.

Shaking her head to try and clear uncomfortable memories, she turned her mind to Lady Marian. Seeing outlaws in secret was a dangerous business, and one that Marian appeared to be skilled at. She guessed that Marian was a sort of spy for Robin Hood, bringing him news from the castle. The Sheriff was suspicious; that much was evident, but Marian seemed to have done a good job of covering her tracks. Kioka grinned. Her respect for the disgraced noblewoman grew.

The water boiled and Kioka sighed. She wrapped her hands round the handles of both buckets and began to haul them upstairs. By the time she reached the rooms, the water would've cooled enough to be a comfortable temperature. Clutching a heavy bucket in both hands, Kioka wondered just how long she would have to play maid for.

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That day, it was raining. Not just raining; a thunderstorm filled the sky. Sheets of white lightening crackled and thunder roared. The wind howled madly, sending the townspeople scurrying for cover. The ground had dissolved into a bed of mud, reaching up to the ankles of those unfortunate enough to be outside. Inside the castle, Lady Marian stared out of the window, her eyes filled with fear.

"We haven't seen a storm like this in five years," she remarked softly, her hand resting on the window pane. Kioka, busy cleaning Roseanna's blue boots, looked up at her. The storm was more violent than anything she had ever seen, at home or in England. Roseanna, sitting in the most comfortable chair weaving, sighed loudly.

"You've already said that," she pointed out. "And come away from the window. The lightening does strange things to one's hair, and yours is strange enough as it is." Marian bit her lip, apparently not hearing a word of what Roseanna had said. Kioka knew the true reason for her worry; how safe were the outlaws in the forest from this storm?

"It will ruin people's homes, their farms, their crops," Marian muttered, eyes fixed on the stormy sky. Roseanna looked up from her weaving in irritation.

"And? We are safe in here. Stop fussing; no harm will come to us. Your pointless worrying is distracting me." Kioka bit down the urge to shake Roseanna like a rag doll. Marian appeared to have had the same thought, for she cast a dark look over her shoulder.

"Do you not care about all the people who will lose their lives, their homes, their families?" She challenged Roseanna, who returned her scathing look.

"For goodness sake, it's only a few beggars and their mangy animals. No one of importance will be hurt."

"The poor are just as important as us!" Roseanna gave a hard laugh.

"You belong with them, dear cousin. A true noble knows that her life is of far more importance than a few peasants. Sometimes I cannot believe we are related."

"I have the same problem!" Marian glared at her cousin. A look of pure outraged anger was on her face as she took a step closer. "How can you be so cruel, so heartless? These are people's lives we are talking about here, not simply one of your dresses that you can dispose of whenever you feel like it!"

"Why should I concern myself with the lives of those less worthy?" Roseanna retorted, an ugly sneer marring her beauty. "Lie with dogs and you get fleas, Marian. You better rethink your behaviour or you'll end up like one of your precious peasants." Marian entire face paled. For a moment, Kioka thought she would slap Roseanna's smug face.

"I'm sorry you have no compassion," she replied in a low, tight voice. "You have no idea what you are missing." Roseanna shook her head and returned to her weaving, Marian going back to her position at the window. _There's too much tension here, _Kioka thought_. Soon something will break._

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Djaq scowled, pulling her blanket tighter. They were all huddled in the underground camp Will had built for them, hiding from the raging storm. Will's camp had done him proud; no leaks seeped through to wet the already soaking outlaws. Still, Djaq had never been more uncomfortable. The drumming of the rain on the roof, the window howling outside, the crash of thunder and lightening – all made her feel trapped, the walls closing in around her. The tense atmosphere and stifling heat of damp cloaks only served to heighten her claustrophobia. She could count herself lucky on one thing; John was the unfortunate one on watch duty that hour, as enemies could attack with or without a storm. To have that job would've been worse than torture. Allan came over to sit by her, brown hair darkened with rain, green eyes shining. She sighed. How could he be so happy at a time like this?

"Someone looks a bit down," he teased her, nudging her slightly. Djaq frowned.

"No teasing. I'm not in the mood."

"Don't you just love the rain?" Allan asked her, grinning widely.

"No," she scowled. "It's wet and cold and depressing." To her annoyance, Allan laughed.

"You're not looking at it properly," he told her. Djaq raised an eyebrow, interested in spite of herself. "I'm not being funny, but it's a kind of art."

"Oh really?" Djaq couldn't help smiling. "Since when do you know about art?"

"Why, I'm an expert with the arts! Especially the art of looking at rain." Djaq snorted. "I'm not being funny! Let me show you." He grabbed her hand and dragged her to her feet. The others looked up as he pulled her towards the door.

"Allan, no..." Djaq protested half-heartedly, but within minutes the door was open and they were outside. Rain poured down on them, wind piercing through Djaq's thin layers and mud sloshing around her boots. She glared at Allan irritably. "This 'rain art' better be good."

"Just look at it!" He called back. Allan looked more alive than she'd ever seen him. His soaking wet hair clung to pale skin, but his vivid green eyes were dancing. He spread his arms wide and grinned. "Don't think, just feel!" Slowly, Djaq dropped her arms, feeling curious and...afraid. She looked up nervously, unsure of what to do or why she felt like this. Allan reached over and caught her hand, and then she could see it.

It was the feeling of release when you're completely without fear. It was the absence of pain, of inhibition, of uncertainty. Standing in that forest, rain pouring onto her body, clutching Allan's hand, a sense of freedom overwhelmed her. Djaq closed her eyes, laughing as the wind whipped her hair up and rippled her clothes. Lightening crashed above her and she looked up at the rumbling sky, all shades of grey. Somehow she felt as if she was part of the storm, waiting to fly into the sky. She looked over at Allan, knowing he felt the same exhilaration, the same racing heartbeat and gasping breath. He nodded and grinned, and that was enough. Funny how a simple storm could be something so beautiful at the same time. Two sides of a mirror, and you never realised until you crossed over.


	6. Plans and Wishes

**Hey! It's good to get this chapter up - it took me a while to write. Now that school's started again, I'll have even less time! This chapter's got several characters' POVs. Tell me what you think of it please - your reviews keep me writing. Here are the responses:**

**Kates Master's Sister - I know how you feel. School's a pain sometimes. I know, I'm building up to that. This chapter brings them one step closer, and you'll _love _what I've got planned for the next chapter. I think WillDjaq's a bit overdone; I don't think I've seen a single AllanDjaq fic on here! I think they suit each other, to be honest, and naturally there will be some WillDjaq. But, if you didn't figure out by the summary, it will end up as a WillKioka. I know it doesn't seem like it yet, I'm getting to that!**

**Lenawalker - Thanks! Just you wait until you read this chapter, and the next one'll be one step closer too! WillDjaq is overdone - there isn't a single AllanDjaq fic (that i've found). It's a change from the ordinary and rather stereotypical pairing. I know; if I owned Robin Hood, Allan wouldn't be such a twat. They ruined his character!**

**louise - Thanks! Keep reading!**

**Disclaimer: blah blah blah, we all know I don't own Robin Hood. I own Kioka and Roseanna though!**

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Tahirah Fonfala smiled as she watched the two girls from her bedroom. Her fourteen-year-old daughter Kioka twisted deftly to avoid the sword of her friend Safiya, a girl who was as close as one of Tahirah's own. Indeed, Tahirah and Safiya's mother Amani had been close friends before Amani's untimely death. The woman from whom Safiya had inherited her wilful spirit had died after a fall from the window of the fourth floor of her mother's home. Safiya had been two at the time. Tahirah had promised herself that she would look after the girl as her own, and she had kept her promise._

_"Give in now and I will spare you!" Safiya cried dramatically, lunging at her friend again. Kioka blocked the blow with her cestuses, grinning._

_"You'll have to catch me first," she retorted, slipping under Safiya's arm and pulling her friend's feet from under. Safiya rolled and sprang to her feet quickly, attacking again. Tahirah sighed wistfully, resting her elbows on the window frame. The two girls were so alike – intelligent, headstrong, determined and spirited. They were so young, she thought, and so set on controlling their own destinies. Amani had been the same; she would not have wanted a docile, unexciting home life for her daughter. She would've encouraged her to follow her heart, and probably have helped her do it. Tahirah tried to be as strong, but sometimes she had doubts._

_There was no doubt that, had they been born boys, they would be celebrated heroes by now. Tahirah had rarely ever seen any two children so skilled with weapons, so quick to learn, so fast and strong. Safiya could wield a blade deadlier than some of the hardiest of men and she could learn a medicine off by heart just by looking at it. She could heal most wounds and illnesses, and her unarmed combat skills had sent Kioka's oldest brother Rikash, almost twice her age, sprawling. As for Kioka, she was her father in miniature. She could figure out any code and come up with a witty response or lie for anything. She was lightening fast and silent, lethal with her cestuses__ as well as daggers__. Tahirah's husband had trained h__er in every trick of spying; of all her siblings, she was the fastest to learn. If they were boys, their lives would be so simple._

_And yet, Tahirah reflected as she watched them train, maybe it was their female side that made them so clever, so determined. It gave them the drive they needed to be so brilliant. Tahirah, although she knew the choice was not hers, did not want to condemn them to an unhappy marriage and a life of womanly service. However, she knew that their fate was already decided. If they were discovered even practicing combat, the punishment would be too terrible to consider. In a world dominated by men, Safiya and Kioka were destined to fail. Clutching the sill, she pressed her lips together. She would let them continue dreaming; give them a few more years of happiness before reality caught up with them. She had been lucky enough to marry a man like Jamal. She knew that Kioka and Safiya would not be so lucky._

_Still, watching them battle in the sun's dying light, she felt fluttering of hope in her chest. Their courage and determination was so strong that she couldn't help believing too. If there was a way, they would be the ones to find it. She so desperately wanted them to find it. __Their young spirits lifted her own, and for a moment, watching them, she could dream as they did. A dream of a world of equality, of free speech and everyone's right to choose their own path. It was that dream that reminded her of Amani, who would be so proud of her daughter. Amani who gave Tahirah the strength to carry on this dangerous life. After all, it was what she would've wanted._

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Robin and his gang were in Nottingham that day. That night was Roseanna's ball, and nobles from everywhere had been invited. A perfect opportunity to explore the castle, while the Sheriff and Gisborne were preoccupied with their important guests. Robin had come up with the idea the night before, and the gang had taken to it eagerly. Allan in particular had asked a lot of questions, but then he had been doing that lately. It wasn't really a cause for concern – he talked a lot anyway.

They were in Nottingham for several reasons. Djaq wanted fresh herbs and medicines, all of which had completely unpronounceable names. Much wanted more food. Robin was there to meet Marian and inform her about his night time plans. The others had come along because they had nothing else to do. As they reached the main market, Djaq slipped away, Much following. Robin, Will, Allan and Little John waited by one of the stalls for Marian to appear. Robin frowned. Turning, he realised Allan wasn't with them.

"Will, where's Allan?" Will shrugged.

"I don't know. Up to no good, wherever he is." Robin rolled his eyes, reminding himself to talk to Allan about this constant disappearing. Just then Marian appeared. She slipped through the side gates, an annoyed expression on her face. Beside her was a Saracen girl, most likely the maid she had mentioned before. Unusually, there were no guards. Spotting Robin, she walked towards him slowly, careful to appear as though she was merely browsing. She whispered something to the Saracen and the girl nodded, disappearing off through the crowd. Marian hurried forward.

"What is so urgent?" She asked, sounding half worried and half frustrated.

"What's put you in a bad mood?" Marian glowered.

"Roseanna's acting up. She was so busy discussing decorations that I managed to get the Sheriff to agree to let me out with no guards." Robin laughed.

"Well, I've got a fun little plan for tonight." Marian's eyes widened.

"Tonight's the ball! There'll be nobles everywhere, and their guards!"

"It'll be easy," Robin dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand. Will grinned. "We just plan on taking a look. And maybe some money. If we find any." Marian rolled her eyes.

"If you get caught, it's your own entire fault," she told him.

"And when I don't get caught, it'll be a story to tell the grandchildren." Marian raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I have to attend the ball, so don't expect to drag me into it." She told him.

"Come and meet us." He stated, ignoring her previous comment.

"No! I said, I'm not taking part in this."

"Come on," Robin pleaded. Marian sighed. "Just for a short while. The dungeons, half way through Roseanna's party. All I need is fifteen minutes. You can get to places we can't."

"I'll come," Marian gave in. "But I'm not helping you. If I get caught –" She was cut off by Robin kissing her on the lips. Next to them, Will stifled a laugh at her shocked expression. She pulled away quickly, looking round nervously. To her relief, no one had seen. "Robin! If someone had seen, I would be dead! So would my father!" Robin just grinned.

"Your maid is returning," he pointed out. Shaking her head in annoyance, Marian quickly turned and walked away. Will laughed softly while Robin watched her walk away. She had a quick, whispered conversation with her maid, and then began to make her way back to the castle. Before she entered the gates, she cast a look back that spoke volumes. _Someday, _she was saying._Someday._

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Djaq smiled as she looked down at the package she held. She had managed to get every item on her list, as well as a rare herb that she didn't know she could get in England. Feeling satisfied, she headed back to Robin with a wide grin on her face. Much had not returned, she noticed, and Allan was gone too. Probably up to no good as usual. He still couldn't control his urge to steal and lie, she thought with a sigh. Lately he had been going off more than usual. Sometimes she worried about him, though she'd never tell him that. He'd just laugh.

Slipping between a tall man and a rather large woman, she side-stepped a cart and dodged a puddle on the ground. No matter where you're from, markets are still the same, she reflected ruefully as she jumped out of the way of three young boys waving wooden swords. Fighting her way through the crowd, she finally managed to get to Robin.

"Did you get what you needed?" Will asked, smiling at her. She waved the package at him. "We're just waiting for Much then. And Allan, I suppose."

"He didn't happen to mention where he was going this time, did he?" Djaq jumped onto a nearby abandoned cart of hay, swinging her legs. Will sighed.

"That would be too much effort," he replied pointedly. They both made identical faces. Will was just as frustrated with Allan as her.

"So, did you see Marian?" Djaq asked, directing the question at Robin. He gestured towards the castle gates. There she was. "Oh, I see her." She looked a bit closer at the girl she was with. That must be the Saracen maid, she thought. Leaning to one side, she nearly fell off the cart in shock. The girl and Marian slipped through the gates, but Djaq didn't notice. Her mind was reeling. A ghost from the past, slipped into her new world like a figure from a dream. She knew she must've seen it wrong – Kioka was far away, living out the life of a noblewoman. She was probably married by now, not playing maid to Marian in England. It had to be a girl who looked like her. It had to be; there was no other. _You're so foolish, _she scolded herself. _One look of a complete stranger and you freak out like you've seen a ghost. __It's just your imagination. _Shaking her head, partly from annoyance and partly to rid her self of the haunting presence of her best friend, she jumped off the cart. "Much is coming, and there's Allan. Let's go," she said brusquely. This was no time to start seeing things around every corner. She was grown up now. Dwelling on the past was too dangerous. She needed to stay strong. For herself.

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Will frowned at Djaq's words, turning to see Allan approaching. There he was, Mr. Invisible himself. He was Will's best friend, but lately he'd been acting strange. Whenever he opened his mouth, it wasn't to come up with a witty remark but to ask yet another question. He kept on vanishing, but whenever Will asked where he'd been, he'd either fall silent or get angry. He was like a brother to Will, but brothers didn't lie. Did they? Well, Luke used to lie, but not about things like that. A little honesty wouldn't hurt. After all they had been through, Will had thought Allan would trust him.

Allan grinned at Djaq, who returned his look with a raised eyebrow and a slight smile of her own. Will's stomach clenched. How did he do it? Allan could charm the birds from the trees and lie his way out of anything, but why did he have to use that oh so persuasive tongue on Djaq? He knew Will loved her. He knew that he could have any girl, whereas Will couldn't even tell Djaq how he felt. He knew how much she meant to Will. He knew all of this but he still had stolen her heart.

"We done here?" Allan asked, coming over to join them. Djaq gave him an exasperated look.

"So you've finally chose to make an appearance?" She challenged him.

"Hey, don't look at me. I've got my own...interests to see to," he retorted with a grin. Djaq returned it, but Will could tell she wouldn't let him off that easily.

"Plan on sharing them?" She persisted. Allan simply shrugged.

"I was busy, okay? It's not a big deal – I give you your privacy, you give me mine."

"Not when we're working," Robin put in, coming to glare at Allan. "We're not sitting around waiting for you." Allan returned his gaze defiantly.

"I'm not some servant you can boss around. I'll do what I want," he told them all angrily. Djaq rolled her eyes and Will sighed. Allan could be impossible sometimes. "Can we go now?" They slowly made their way back through the town, travelling in silence. Allan's eyes were dark and subdued – something was not right, Will thought. Things were falling apart and he didn't know what to do. If only Allan would help. If only things were easy.


	7. Part 1: A Plot and A Party

**Sorry for the long time it took to update! I went to Wales last weekend, and school's being keeping me pretty busy. Still, I managed to catch up with last week's episode luckily, and I just finished watching this week's. I do wish Allan wasn't such a prat. Still, I suppose you can't have everything. Anyway, this chapter's a two-parter with a cliffhanger ending - I promise to get part 2 up soon! Please please review...it will make me very happy ;)**

**xpinkkittyx don't worry, you've fufilled your duties! Still, at least this is one story I'm getting finished, right?**

**Kates Master's Sister Right you are, clever girl. Poor you...I'm sorry, I do try! You live in Wales? Whereabouts? I was up there the other weekend, you see...**

**Pig-The-Prophetess I give you a cookie. You are an amazing reviewer. :) As for the 'Allan the Betrayer' theme, I think that they've made him a bitter prat, so no. But something like that. Let's just say Kioka's rather good at everything to do with spies...I won't say anymore! Indeed, Djaq has seen her - I thought it was about time. You'll love the ending of this chapter, I promise you. I know...school is annoying but must come first sadly.**

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Safiya and Kioka began to realise their differences when they reached their teens. By thirteen, Safiya was of medium height, with thick black hair in wild curls surrounding her dark eyes. Her limbs were strong and sun-browned, a slight hint of curves coming into place. Her face was open and honest, mouth usually softly serious. Logical and truthful, she was exactly as she was, unable to change. Kioka's features were slightly different – she was taller, more graceful with her long, slender limbs. Her eyes were catlike and unreadable even to Safiya, although they were usually filled with a mischievous and scheming spark. Skin colour identical to Safiya's, her jet black ringlets fell halfway down her back. Unlike Safiya, her full lips were always twisted into a wicked smile. She lived for chances to practise her powers of deception; at parties she was the centre of attention, flirting with men and enjoying her popularity. Safiya, who felt it was small to promise anyone anything if you don't intend to give it, disapproved but let her continue. After all, it seemed to give her pleasure._

_"Why does Kioka hurt people's feelings?" Safiya asked her father once. He looked at her gravely before sighing and settling back in his chair. They were in his study, filled from floor to ceiling with dusty books, every available space filled with herbs and equipment. _

_"Kioka doesn't mean to do so," he told her. "She simply has a slightly different attitude to life from you and me."_

_"What does that mean?" Safiya asked, seating herself on his desk atop a pile of papers._

_"Well, I have brought you up to be a healer and a warrior, have I not?" Safiya nodded. "Well, even if those dreams are never realised, you will still have the values and qualities of those roles. Bravery, honesty, trust, a respect for life – these and many more are the morals you have been brought up with. I have taught you a strict guideline of right and wrong, as a warrior and healer would see. For Kioka, the lines are much more blurred. She is a spy. Her life may one day depend on skills like deceit, putting yourself and the mission first, and trusting no one. These are the values she has been brought up with – form superficial bonds to get close to people and learn their secrets. Their interest in secrets comes first, their humanity next. This does not mean that she has no honour; it just means that because of her upbringing she will find it hard to form true relationships. She will certainly have fewer qualms when it comes to killing."_

_"Is that a bad thing?" Safiya frowned. Her father smiled slightly sadly._

_"My dove, you make me so proud. You know what is right and wrong, you are trustworthy and kind, patient but braver than a lion. One day you will make a brilliant warrior or a healer. Kioka will be a brilliant spy one day as well. However, she may find that path lonely and friendless, unable to trust anyone. Her life will be devoted to deceit and a fight for survival. In the spy world there is no honour, no glory. Killings can be murders, brutal and unexpected. She will be on edge for her whole life. And something tells me that she, clever and cunning like her father, will love that. Jamal is a good man, and he found a good wife in Tahirah.__ I simply hope Kioka will do too. In the mean time, do not judge her too harshly. She is only doing her job."_

_"What about me? What will I do?" Safiya asked. Her father chuckled._

_"My dearest, you will go on to do great things. You have a big heart, my little one, and you have your mother's spirit and determination. I have faith in you. Wherever you go, no matter where your journey takes you, I predict that you will do great things. Any commander would be lucky to have you."_

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Roseanna gave a contented sigh as she examined herself in the mirror. The ball was due to start in an hour, and Kioka had just finished preparing her. She smoothed her skirt, twisting a golden ringlet round her finger with a beautiful smile. Her mass of tumbling curls was elaborately arranged on top of her head, pinned with sapphire butterflies. Her dress had been made at home in Woodsen and sent over to her. Naturally, nothing could compare to it _here_It was blue silk with a corseted bodice, scoop neckline and full skirt. The sleeves were tight-fitting up to her elbows – there they erupted into a fountain of lace and pearls. Over this she wore a sleeveless overskirt of sheer fabric embroidered with silver thread and blue sapphires. Around her neck were the Woodsen Sapphires, a necklace that would cost half of England. In all her finery, she resembled a fairytale princess. Even Marian couldn't help sighing slightly when she saw her, before leaving the room. Roseanna beamed into the mirror smugly, admiring herself. Even her sister Serena could not rival her tonight, if she had come.

"Well done," she offered to Kioka with a rare smile at the maid, who stared at her in surprise before curtseying. Roseanna wished her family could see her now – then they'd realise she was no longer the little sister, the quiet one, the tag-along of the family. Indeed, she was about to make a name for herself that would far surpass any of her sisters'. "Is Marian ready?"

"I believe so, Milady," the maid told her quietly. As if on cue, the door swung open to reveal an irate Marian, glaring at Roseanna furiously. She wore the dress that Roseanna had chosen: a tight-fitting scarlet gown with gold embroidery and a very low neckline.

"You look beautiful," Roseanna smirked. Marian gritted her teeth.

"I look like a common harlot, Roseanna," she replied, making no attempt to disguise her anger. Roseanna gave her a wide, innocent smile.

"It suits you perfectly," she remarked, eyes wide and mocking. Marian clenched her fists and left the room, slamming the door. Roseanna tutted.

"How unladylike," she commented, admiring herself once again. Then, with a brisk turn, she drifted to the door in a cloud of perfume. "Tell Marian that I'm going downstairs to greet my guests. Also remind her of her obligations – it would be a bad move to keep me waiting." With that Roseanna floated out, angelic appearance unaffected by the threat she had just uttered.

"I'm sure she'll look forward to it," Kioka muttered.

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Robin and his gang crept through the streets of Nottingham, through the shadows of dark houses and shops. The moonlight shone down, bathing their vision in silvery light. Ahead of them, Nottingham castle was surrounded by expensive carriages and fine horses. The windows of the hall glowed with the light of hundreds of candles, beautiful music floating out into the night. Will whistled and Djaq stared up at the castle.

"Roseanna's gone the whole way on this one," Will whispered to her, and Robin had to agree. Never had he seen so expensive a ball. This was Nottingham, for goodness sake. Evidently Roseanna wanted to make a big entrance.

"Alright, focus everyone. Plan A goes into action...now!" Immediately everyone sprang into action as a fancy carriage rolled towards the gates. They slipped through the shadows, following it carefully and rapidly. As the gates opened, the six of them quickly slipped through, somehow managing to dodge the guards. It was lucky the moonlight was bright – it made the shadows that much darker. They used the servant's entrance into the castle – every servant who who'd been in the quarters was in the hall, serving at Roseanna's ball. It was almost too easy. "Djaq, Allan, Much, you go see to the riches left in the carriages." The three nodded, and ran off to do their duty. They had been briefed enough to know exactly what to do. "Little John, Will, come with me."

"This I do not like," John muttered. "It feels like a trap."

"We have to hope everyone's too busy partying to notice a couple of outlaws," Robin replied. He knew what John meant – there should be someone down here. The Sheriff wasn't stupid. With these ominous thoughts in mind, the three men slipped through the corridors quickly, senses magnified, each one on edge. "Through here." The door opened to reveal an empty dungeon.

"Something's wrong," Will whispered, Little John nodding his agreement. "There's always someone down here. Prisoners, guards – it's never empty."

"Robin!" Came a voice down the stairway and they all jumped, clutching their weapons as the spun to face the door. They breathed a collective sigh of relief as they realised it was only Marian. She too looked worried.

"Where are the guards?" She asked him, eyes flitting round the room. "Where are the prisoners?"

"I don't know," Robin admitted. She frowned.

"Then it's not safe for you to be here! Any moment now we could be ambushed!"

"I know! Listen, I need one thing," Robin grasped her shoulders, staring her in the eyes. "Marian, I need some of your and Roseanna's things."

"Why?" Marian's frown deepened.

"So it looks like I got everyone, including you," Robin explained. Marian hesitated and then breathed a frustrated sigh.

"Fine. Here's the key. Make sure to take a lot of Roseanna's things – she deserves it." Robin grinned and kissed her. Will coughed loudly and John shifted. They pulled apart.

"Will, take the keys and go to Marian's room. You know where it is?" Will nodded. "John and I will go to the others to warn them. If there is an ambush planned, then it will most likely happen there, where we're stealing the most." Will nodded again and slipped out of the room, clutching the keys. "Marian, go back to the party before they miss you." She protested, but he stopped her. "Now! You know what could happen. If they ask about the keys, say you left them in the room and we must've taken them. No one's up there?" Marian thought carefully then shook her head.

"I don't think so. Roseanna will have taken the maid."

"Good. John, let's move!"

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Will ran through the corridors quickly, every nerve on edge, ready for hundreds of soldiers to come bursting out at any moment. He clutched the keys tightly, not noticing as they cut into his hand. He could barely remember where Marian's room was, but he needed to. He wished they hadn't done this. Lately every time they tried to do anything, it seemed to get found out. He'd say Gisborne had a spy in the camp, but he couldn't believe it. He didn't want to.

Rounding the corner, he spotted Marian's room. Breathing a sigh of relief, he ran towards the door. Shoving the keys into the lock, he opened the door hurriedly and rushed in, slamming the door behind him. Immediately he was plunged into darkness. It swamped him, confusing and unexpected. Suddenly, terrifyingly, a strong arm came up round his waist, another holding a sharp knife to his throat. He choked, freezing up. He could feel the warmth of the person behind, hypersensitive nerves telling him this was a woman shorter than him. She breathed softly into his ear the ominous, threatening words:

"Move and you die."


	8. Part 2: Dangerous Conversation

**Part 2 is up! I think it may be slightly long - that's due to me putting too little in the previous chapter. However, I hope you enjoy this one! Please, please, _please, _review and tell me what you think of my pairings. Anyway, there won't be another chapter up until next weekend, unless you're very lucky. Meanwhile, remember: reviews love.**

**Pig-The-Prophetess sighs at the pains of the internet. I feel your pain :) You can have another cookie for your troubles. Too right, Allan needs a wake-up call in my opinion. Well, that won't be the last you see of her - she'll get her's though, I have a very fun final scene for her evil smile. Fear not, here's your solution - a chapter filled with enough to keep you satisfied for this week I hope!**

**Kates Master's Sister I know! Robin just took it a bit too far, if you know what I mean. And what was up with 'Allan -the-oh-so-Bitter-and-full-of-Angst'? Come on, his life wasn't that bad. I did laugh when the Sheriff said, 'hang him' though. Priceless ;)**

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"My Kitten, what do you think is the most important rule of spying?" Jamal Fonfala asked his thirteen-year-old daughter. They were both sitting in his light, airy study. Sun shone onto piles of reports on a large desk made of dark wood. Around the room the walls were covered in maps and notes in code, tall cabinets stuffed with more reports and messages. Kioka was perched on a high stool, legs crossed underneath her, chin resting in her hands. Blinking her large, almond-shaped eyes lazily, she bore an astonishing resemblance to a cat. 

_"Trust no one?" She suggested. Jamal chuckled. _

_"I thought you might say that," he told her. "You have made one of the most common mistakes in the spy world. Let me explain." He sat forward, watching his daughter. "It is a common misconception that spies can trust no one. Can you really imagine trusting no one, Kitten? A spy's life is lonely enough __–__it is impossible to say that you or I could live without another human being to rely on."_

_"But you told me that trusting someone is leaving yourself open to danger," Kioka frowned. Jamal nodded._

_"It is true. You cannot trust everyone, and in our lives there will always be betrayal. Often it will be us who have the difficult job of betraying those we love. That is why there is a fine line between being a spy and a traitor. Spies have a job to do, a loyalty to their employers. Traitors are those who already have an allegiance and betray that trust. Sometimes you cannot distinguish, my Kitten, and in this life people will get hurt. It is the path we choose, and unfortunately there is no turning back once it has been done."_

_"So wouldn't it be better not to form any bonds?" Kioka asked, brushing back a curl from her eyes. Jamal shook his head, smiling at her in a way that was half sadness, half pride._

_"Kitten, we need people. Without love, without affection, without common human decency, we become traitors, with no soul or understanding for friendship or moral values. Of course, it is important that your life and your mission come first – that is a spy's way. But friends and those we can trust keep us righteous, just and help us as much as we can to remain true to our cause."_

_"How do you know who to trust though?"_

_"It comes in different ways. Sometimes it takes years to build up a strong enough relationship with someone. __Sometimes all it takes is a look. When I met your mother for the first time, I knew that she would understand me. It was in her eyes, a cross between duty and honesty. It is hard to explain if you have not experienced it. Maybe it is to do with circumstance. __Now, you and Safiya, why do you trust her?"_

_"I just do," Kioka replied thoughtfully. "I've known her for so long, and we never keep anything secret."_

_"It is a certain type of people, Kitten. Only a few times in your life will you be lucky enough to meet someone so special that you can trust them with your life. When you meet them, hold onto them. Do not make the mistake that you feel you have to keep your secrets. Sometimes only by __telling the truth can we form honest bonds, and sometimes people deserve the truth and our respect."_

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Kioka had been reading when he had come in. She was seated in the armchair beside Sir Edward, who slumbered peacefully. The lamps were low and she was almost asleep when she heard it. Someone outside shoved a key into the lock frantically. Obviously it was someone who did not want to be discovered. They must've believed the room was empty, and now they were going to break in. She assumed this was for nefarious reasons. A devious smile lit her features as she blew out the lamp. Whoever it was, they were about to get a surprise.

The door flew open to reveal a young man around her age who quickly slammed it shut behind him. The darkness, as she had predicted, confused him momentarily, giving her time to slip behind him. Out came one of her wrist knives, as she wrapped her arm around his waist and pinned the knife to his throat. He was taller than her, but she wasn't unduly concerned. She felt his body tense as he sensed the cold steel at his neck and almost felt sorry for him.

"Move and you die," she whispered softly. Her words had the perfect effect. He was immediately still. "Good boy. Do you have any particular reason for breaking in?"

"Lady Marian said I could come in. Please, don't kill me." His voice was hoarse, obviously afraid. She sighed.

"Now, why would she do that?" She pressed the knife a little harder. "Don't lie. I kill liars, but if you're good I might just let you live."

"I – I'm with Robin Hood."

"I see." Kioka grinned. So, Marian was living the double life still? She wondered what exactly she had sent this man up for. "I believe you, for now. On the count of three, I'm going to release you. Don't think of trying anything funny. I won't like it. One, two...three." In one rapid move, she slid the knife from his throat, pushing him away at the same time. He fell against the opposite wall. Kioka sighed and went over to the drawer where she kept the candles. Lighting a few, as well as the lamp, she appraised her visitor. He was tall, but still quite young, with pale skin and dark, straight hair. His eyes were dark as well, and she could tell at once that he was no real criminal from their expression. He was lean but strong, that much she could see. Kioka smiled at him. "So, did she have a particular reason for your night time errand?" He swallowed, getting up.

"I have to take some of her things. And Roseanna's." Kioka shrugged.

"Be my guest. Don't wake Sir Edward up though, or Marian will have our heads." He stared at her with an expression that was a mix of curiosity, recognition and respect.

"Who are you?" He asked her. She gave him a wicked grin.

"A simple maidservant, if I do say so myself," she offered him sweetly.

"Since when can a maid use a knife?"

"Since when does a noblewoman allow outlaws the key to her rooms?" Kioka returned, watching as he fingered some of Roseanna's jewels, pulling a sack cloth bag from his belt.

"Alright fine, you don't have to say," he sighed. Then, looking at an emerald necklace, he asked her, "How much is all this worth?"

"More than most will earn in a lifetime, my dear," Kioka sighed. "Such is the injustice of the world."

"Well, that's what we fight against."

"So you do, and I'm sure you do a rather good job. Six of you, or so I've heard. Let me guess which one you are." He looked up in surprise as she went through the list. "You're not Robin, that's obvious. Djaq's a Saracen like me, so you're not him. Little John's supposedly bigger than you, and you're not Much either. Allan A Dale is supposed to be good at thinking on the spot, which evidently you're not. So, you must be Will Scarlet." She laughed at his expression, resting her elbows on the cabinet.

"How do you know all...?"

"I have my sources," she replied. "You might want to hurry." He did as she said, looking completely confused.

"You're not a normal maid," he finally stated. "You use daggers, remember everything, talk back like you've been educated..."

"My dear, don't hurt your brain," Kioka cut him off lazily. "I fill my purpose, for now. Also, I'd prefer if you didn't alert Marian or anyone else to my little tricks. Let's keep them our secret."

"If you wanted to be secret, why show me?"

"Because you had already realised I could use a knife. And so I decided to show off a bit."

"Was that really a good idea?" Kioka shrugged, looking at him slyly through half-lowered lashes.

"I decided to indulge a bit," she told him with a wide grin. He laughed. "Now, get a move on! You shouldn't be so easily distracted."

"You just happen to be a very distracting maid."

"If you're referring to my good looks..."

"Actually, I was thinking more your outspoken manner." He laughed as she threw a cloth at him in mock anger.

"Now you've offended me. I shan't speak to you any longer."

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?"

"Will Scarlet, you are very rude. I shall make sure to add that to your reputation, for next time I see you." Will threw a red velvet dress into his bag and pulled the drawstring, looking over at her.

"What makes you think we'll be seeing each other again?" He asked. "I'm not paying visits, if that's what you're hinting."

"If my suspicions are right, we'll be seeing rather a lot of each other," Kioka returned, dark eyes glittering, a knowing smile playing over her lips. "Things in Nottingham are about to start heating up _very _fast, Will Scarlet. Soon you may be playing your games a little too fast for your liking."

"What part do you intend to play?" He questioned.

"Me? Oh, I'm merely a maid – I'll be hemming Marian's dresses," Kioka sighed. "I'll leave the exciting things to you big, brave outlaws."

"I'm sure," Will replied, looking sceptically amused. "I'm leaving now. Say I knocked you out or something." Kioka nodded her head gracefully as he went to the door. "Oh, by the way – do you have a name?"

"Not that it concerns you, of course," she replied. "My name is Kioka, Will Scarlet." He grinned and ducked out the door. She fingered the edge of her sleeve thoughtfully. Speaking to him made her realise how boring and monotonous her current life was. Maybe she should give up her life as a maid and join Robin Hood's gang. The thought made her laugh. It wasn't her battle to fight. Still, in any event they probably needed a spymaster. She would keep that in mind.

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Robin and John crept into the stables silently, aware of every movement. Ahead of them, Robin could just see Much standing beside one of the carriages. He gave a low whistle, and Much spun round, Djaq dropping down beside him. Robin and John stepped out, glancing round furtively.

"We're leaving. Now." Robin whispered and Djaq nodded.

"None of the carriages have anything of value in them," she told him, large eyes nervous. Allan came up behind her.

"She's telling the truth," he verified. Just then, Robin heard a voice that sent him spinning, an arrow to his bow in the direction of the speaker.

"Surely you didn't think it would be that easy, Hood," Gisborne stated coldly. He stood in the stable doors, the crisp night air rushing in behind him. At that moment, soldiers burst in, surrounding them. The gang tightened. Robin gripped his bow harder, wondering where Will was. Looking around at all the soldiers, he decided to take a risk.

"You know Gisborne," he answered loudly, feeling his gang preparing. They had practically read his mind, and knew exactly what he wanted. "For a second there, I really did." Then they sprang forward.

The room burst into life as weapons clashed. Djaq was a furious storm of steel as she twisted through soldiers with her lethal blade. Allan did the same, following her lead. John took down a dozen at a time – none in the room could equal his strength. Even Much was doing his best, clutching a short sword. Robin threw himself into the battle, keeping an eye on his fellow gang members and trying to look out for Will. As he slammed the hilt of his sword onto a soldier's temple, he spotted him, looking utterly confused. Luckily he caught on quickly and joined the heated battle, axes swinging.

Finally the gang managed to get their backs to the door. Robin caught Djaq and Allan's eye, and gave a tiny nod. The two of them sprang into action; racing to the other side of the doors as the rest of the group ran out, slamming the doors shut against the soldiers. Hurriedly all six rushed across the courtyard. John, Djaq and Robin took out the guards as Will opened the gate. With a feeling of elation and triumph, they shot out into the night air, back to the forest with Will's prizes.


	9. Growing and Changing

**Chapter 9 is finally up! I was worried that I wouldn't manage it this week - I went to a MCR concert on Thursday, and the school's been piling on homework - but luckily I did. I have to say, I wasn't too sure about this chapter being good, but my sister persuaded me to put it on. Things will start getting more exciting very soon, I promise! Review and tell me what you think, particularly on keeping in-character, dialogue and keeping it real. I hope everyone knows the pairings - that'll make this make much more sense. Anyway, Review Responses:**

**Pig-The-Prophetess Well you deserve cookies and mentions! I have to say, I usually end up re-writing the beginning flashbacks to try and keep them in character. I'm trying to emphasise that Kioka and Djaq are different in many ways, so Kioka doesn't end up as a rip-off of Djaq. Kioka does, in many ways, appear superior to Will - she's been training all her life to show confidence in any situation. And of course, there's the fact that came up about two chapters back: she likes to be liked, and to show off. There's another difference between her and Djaq. Of course, the relationship won't develop until quite a while later. Thank you again for your wonderful reviews :P**

**Kates Master's Sister Don't worry, they will soon. I've planned that chapter and I'm hoping it'll come up in about 2 or 3 chapters! As to their question, Will did that because then it wouldn't look like Marian had anything to do with it. Thanks for reviewing!**

**emilyanne-xo Thank you! Often it gets hard to write Kioka, as I don't want her to sound too much like a rip-off of Djaq. Do you think the rest are in character?**

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It was festival time in the city. Bright flags and tapestries hung from the windows of the tall, white-washed houses – the poorer citizens' way of showing their spirit. Narrow streets were lined with stalls and attractions, the air filled with the scent of spicy food and incense. Thousands of people, rich and poor, crammed into the streets to enjoy the festivities. Women drifted through the crowds wearing their best silk veils and embroidered gowns, waving fans in the hot air. Young children skipped around the adults' legs, running through streets shrieking and laughing. That day was the carnival parade, the day when rich and poor dressed up and performed for the delights of others._

_Safiya and Kioka were in the parade. They were both seven, precocious and bold. Tahirah had suggested they enter the festivities and Kioka had taken to the idea, persuading Safiya to grudgingly dress up in her best. They were standing in Kioka's room, putting the last touches to their costumes, waiting for the parade to drift outside their house so they could join in. Safiya tugged at the waistband of her wraparound red, glittering skirt uncomfortably. She wore a scarlet, short-sleeved top embroidered with rubies and gold thread, as was her skirt. Her black curls were let loose, tumbling down her back with a band of red silk holding them from her face. Kioka wore a __bright yellow skirt made of several layers of gauze, embroidered with gold. Her top was yellow silk, golden suns embroidered all over the fabric. Her hair was loose too, a mass of ringlets with several gold clips among the dark locks. _

_"Don't look so gloomy," She commented to Safiya. "It's a festival, not a funeral."_

_"I feel awful," Safiya retorted. "My hair's too hot, and the fabric's itchy."_

_"You're no fun," Kioka stuck her tongue out. "This is about expressing yourself freely. We'll __meet__ everyone, rich and poor."_

_"We could do that anyway, if we really wanted to," Safiya pointed ou__t, folding her arms stubbornly. Kioka thought about that for a moment._

_"Well, yes, but we don't," she answered. "If we did, then that would be all the more reason to do this. So we could see our poor friends that we don't have right now."_

_"Exactly!__ So why are we going?"_

_"You're not making sense," Kioka frowned.__ "Why would we not go? You've confused me." Safiya shook her head in exasperation. _

_"Never mind," she sighed. "My point was, we could easily just sneak out one day and meet all these people. So why go to all the trouble of dressing up?"_

_"It's about showing we're not afraid to play with the poor in public," Kioka suggested. _

_"But why are we doing that?" Safiya fidgeted with the hem of her top. _

_"I don't know," Kioka admitted. "My father told me that. He said I'll understand better when I'm older."_

_"I hate it when they do that," Safiya complained. Just then, Tahirah burst into the room._

_"Come on girls! The parade is here!" Clutching their skirts, they ran through the house and down, across the gardens, towards the gate. The parade was drifting past, a blur of glittering gold and rainbows of colour. Safiya and Kioka slipped in, pushing their way until they were walking with the others. They held each other'__s hand tightly as the sea of carnival dancers and performers surrounded them, driving them forwards._

_"It doesn't get much better than this," Kioka murmured drily and Safiya laughed as they headed towards the citadel._

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Djaq settled back one of the beds in the camp, yawning sleepily. The rest of the gang were other places – Robin, Much and John had gone to Nottingham, Will had gone to Locksley and she had no idea where Allan was. Supposedly she was guarding the camp, although the day was unusually warm and she felt more like sleeping. That thought brought a sudden memory to her mind, and she smiled. From the age of four, Kioka had decided that regular hours of sleep would not bother her. Even at nine, if she felt tired at any point in the day she would simply curl up wherever she was and go to sleep. Aunt Tahirah had once said that there wasn't a single piece of floor or furniture in the house that Kioka hadn't slept on.

A sudden movement brought her back to reality, looking round sharply as Allan appeared through a gap in the trees. He caught sight of her and grinned. She raised an eyebrow in return.

"Someone looks comfortable," he commented. Coming towards her, he sat on the edge of the bed. "Come on, budge up a bit Djaq."

"No. I prefer my comfort alone, thank you very much," she retorted.

"Come on, just a little bit more room," he pleaded, and she sighed and shuffled over.

"There. Are you happy now?" She grumbled. Then her eyes widened in shock as Allan stretched out next to her. "Allan! Get your own!"

"No," came the reply. "I like this one. It's warmer."

"That's because I'm already in it!"

"So?" He yawned and she rolled her eyes.

"Alright fine, you can stay here," she gave in testily. "Just don't talk too much. I want to sleep." Allan nodded, and she closed her eyes. It was warmer with him there, she supposed, as she drifted off. For several, long moments there was silence. Then:

"Djaq? Are you awake?"

"No," Djaq answered, her voice sleepy and muffled. "So be quiet!"

"Sorry," Allan muttered, and Djaq closed her eyes again. The sun must've gone behind a cloud, because the air suddenly grew colder, and she instinctively drew closer to Allan. Damn this English weather, with its ever-changing temperature. "Djaq, are you cold?" Allan asked pointlessly, and Djaq frowned.

"Yes, I am cold," she snapped. "And I am also tired. Do you never sleep?"

"Well, I sleep when everyone else does. I'm not being funny, but that's usually at night." Djaq rolled her eyes again. "And I was only asking, because it is cold."

"Well done. You noticed." Allan sighed and turned over to face her. Djaq opened one eye irritably. "What now?"

"Well, I'm cold too."

"Go get a blanket then."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I'm not being funny, but that would involve going all the way over there, finding a blanket, coming all the way back, getting comfortable again..."

"Alright!" Djaq cut him off. "No blanket. I don't mind." There was another long pause. Then Allan interrupted again.

"Djaq? I'm not being funny, but I'm still cold."

"So am I. I said to you, go get a blanket. You said no. What do you want me to do?"

"Move closer," he suggested. Djaq opened her eyes. Seeing he was serious, she sighed. Slowly she shuffled forward on the narrow bed, until they were almost touching.

"There. Can I go to sleep now?" Allan nodded and she closed her eyes again. This time, there were no interruptions and gradually she began to slip away, the warmth of Allan's body sending her to peaceful sleep. She dreamt of warm days in her past, dipping her feet in the lake, playing ball with Kioka and lying in the sun. Smiling in her slumber, she was at last content.

When she woke, it was late afternoon. Allan was still asleep, his breathing slow and regular. Not wanting to wake him, she looked around. Her head almost touched his chest, his arm resting across her body casually. From the look of it, no one had arrived back yet. Djaq raised herself a little higher so she could see over Allan's sleeping form. Nothing seemed out of place. She debated on going back to sleep, but decided against it. Djaq poked Allan's ribs and he groaned, pushing her away.

"Wake up," she told him with a grin. "You're the one who didn't want to sleep. We might as well do something useful today."

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Djaq had been wrong when she thought that no one had seen them. Now Will stood on the edge of the forest, staring back into Locksley blindly and breathing hard. They had both been asleep when he had arrived, Allan's arm over Djaq, she curled up beside him. Will's throat had tightened, his heart thumping painfully, and before he knew it he was moving away, almost running back in the direction. He hadn't planned on going back to Locksley, but he had ended up there anyway.

Djaq and Allan. Well, he should've known really – Allan always got the girl. Still, he had held onto that hope that Djaq was different when she never seemed to treat Allan different from anyone else, when she spoke to him as a friend and nothing more. Will had hoped that maybe, maybe, she would realise how he felt and share his feelings. No doubt, Allan probably had some feelings for her; otherwise he wouldn't have gone after her. But how strong were those feelings really, or was Djaq just another test of his ability to claim any woman he wanted?

Will sighed in frustration, running his hands through his hair. Damn Allan. What made him so special? And why did he have to have every woman he set his eyes on? Djaq was different from all the various barmaids and shop girls that they had come across. She was feisty and spirited, not the sort to settle for any man. And Allan, always so secretive nowadays, hardly needed a woman like that. He normally went for the passive type, who said yes straight away. But now they were together.

Looking out at Locksley to distract himself, he caught sight of Marian. That was unusual. He wondered what she had done to persuade Gisborne to let her out this time. Eventually she would run out of excuses, he was sure. Sometimes she didn't come for any particular reason, only to see Robin, which was rather risky in Will's opinion. But maybe that was what love did. Marian and Robin were definitely in love - that much was clear. Turning his attention back to her, he watched as she walked slowly through the village. Occasionally she stopped to talk to a villager or offer food or coins to the children who ran around her ankles. Behind her was someone else – the Saracen girl from three nights ago. Kioka. So she had been telling the truth when she said she was a maid. Indeed she looked like one, walking a few paces after Marian in her dark, plain gown, carrying a basket on her hip. Her hair was pinned up like the night he had met her, but the wind had unsettled it so several locks fell loose, blowing round her face. She said something to Marian as she turned, and Marian smiled, taking a piece of bread from the basket and passing it to a small boy. Kioka grinned in return and they continued walking.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she looked up, dark eyes scanning the surroundings. Then she met his gaze. He couldn't help smiling as her features lit up wickedly and she mouthed his name. Marian turned to ask her something and her attention was distracted. He quickly slipped back, not quite sure why, just knowing that she saw too much. Immediately she glanced around, looking for him. When she realised he was gone, she merely smiled deviously and shook her head. Then, following her mistress, they set off back to the manor. Watching her, Will frowned slightly. She looked so familiar. If only he could place where.


	10. Rain Brings Reflections

**I cannot believe it - another chapter up in the same day. I got a burst of inspiration, sort of a need to get down my thoughts. And funnily enough, I like this chapter more than the previous. Now here's a warning: this chapter is more of a character-building, angsty chapter. It's basically showing three of the main characters thoughts at the moment. There's a bit of Marian, because I haven't written her for a while. Now, I know some people don't like these sort of thoughtful chapters - after all, it has no action - so if you want, think of it as a sort of interval, where you quickly go over what's happened so far with everyone. Then the action will start up again next chapter. Reviews are needed of course, and Review Responses are here: **

**(there aren't many because I only posted it today)**

**Pig-The-Prophetess That would be Mindless Self Indulgence - their lead singer did have a glow in the dark belt. Also (and this is really scary) I was looking at your profile and I go to scouts too. _Weird._ It's true, my sister doesn't often read it, but I was unsure of whether to rewrite it and had to ask someone. Haha, I know the feeling. Aww thank you, it's ok - your reviews brighten up my day very nicely. And yes, but there won't be any of that quite yet - I'm trying to keep this realistic. Here's a question: Where would they do it? After all, can you imagine if someone walked in (they're in a forest, practically the whole world can see them). Marian and Robin will have the same problem, I'm sure. I think Djaq would have trouble seeing something like that. After all, she wants to be treated like a man and her own personality would blind her to that sort of thing. Well, all friends get jealous and Will's no exception. Well he should anyway - it must get quite boring, watching your best friend get all the girls and being 'the quiet one'. WillKioka will come in plenty soon, I promise!**

**emilyanne-xo Don't worry - I took a look at your story and length is fine. Still, relationships take time to develop. Now here's a secret - I actually planned to make Djaq and Kioka meet in something like chapter 4, but I couldn't write it properly and soon a better idea came to mind. Oh, the wonders of plots. Thank you so much!**

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_If there was one thing that Tahirah excelled in, it was story-telling. From her birth, her mother had sat by her bed late into the night, whispering ancient tales just as her grandmother and done for her. When Tahirah had children of her own, she followed this tradition, passing on the myths and fairytales of her childhood. She knew hundreds, fables of magic and mystery, love and war, family and friendship. Before Kioka could walk, she would lie in her crib listening to her mother weave magical worlds with her voice or sing lullabies from the times of her ancestors. When Amani was still alive she would bring Safiya to listen, and after her death Safiya kept coming. _

_One night, when the air was chill outside but the fire was warm, the two six-year-olds were in the family room waiting for their story. The only light came from the fireplace, casting a warm glow across the room. Safiya and Kioka lay on the __floor in__ front of the flickering flames, amidst a pile of blankets and pillows, another blanket across their small forms as they stared at Tahirah expectantly. She sat in a comfortable arm chair beside them__, a small hand loom on her lap._

_"Now, what story would you like to hear tonight?" She asked, and Safiya's face screwed up with childish thoughtfulness._

_"A new one, Aunt Tahirah," she demanded and Kioka nodded, kicking her legs. Tahirah's stories were always fantastical – the night before she had told them of a land where horses ate pure gold to breathe out music, before that a land where people spoke to the wind and sang with the fire. _

_"Alright then, little ones, if you so wish. Tonight my story is a bit more serious, so you will have to be very quiet." The two girls nodded and she continued: "A long time ago, there lived a princess. She was not the most beautiful but her voice was the most prized in the land, and when she sang the birds flew down from the trees to listen. The princess fell in love with a man, a handsome warrior who was brave and strong and everything she wished for in a husband." Kioka blinked and Safiya nodded, wide-eyed. Even at six, Tahirah had learnt not to underestimate them – they were much smarter than other girls their age._

_"This man did not love the princess, for she was not beautiful. He loved another, a captivating but foolish __woman__ who loved him back without knowledge of the princess' own desire. For the princess loved him more than anything else in this world, my dears. __When she heard of his planned marriage to the woman, her heart was broken. She did not want to be a human girl, destined to be separate from her only true love, so she turned into a beautiful bird of the palest blue, the colour of her tears. She flew to the window of the married couple, and watched sadly as the man and the woman lived happily. One day, the man left to join a war far away, leaving his young wife with child. The princess, knowing of his destiny to die in battle, sat outside the window of their house and sang. She sang songs of heartbreak and loss, of grief and tragedy. She sang of children left without fathers, of widows and lost romance, of unrequited love and her own __untimely end of her life. The wife, listening to these songs, grew sadder and sadder.__ She thought of her own beauty, vapid and insincere, of her husband fighting worlds away for an untrue cause, of the wrongdoings and suffering she had caused. The princess' song broke her heart and she died alone, aware of all the pain in the world. The man died at war and the princess realised that her love was gone forever. For the last time she sang, of all the sadness and death that love had caused, and then she flew into the sky and was never heard again."_

_There was a silence for several minutes as the two young girls on the blankets processed this tale. Kioka frowned and Safiya blinked hard, her small mouth open slightly. Then they looked up again._

_"Isn't love a good thing?" Kioka asked curiously._

_"Sometimes, my dears.__ But it isn't always wise to give your whole self, heart and soul, to another. Feelings ebb and flow like the tide, and that is why you must be careful."_

_"I don't understand," Safiya stated, and Tahirah smiled__ a little too understandingly__. "__I understand the story__" she protested hastily. "But__ why is love bad? What if you're really, really in love?"_

_"Then of course it's a good thing. If you find someone who is deserving of your all, then love can make you the happiest on earth."_

_"Why do you tell sad stories, Mama?" Kioka asked, frowning slightly in concentration._

_"I don't tell them to sadden you, or to scare you or make you fearful of love," Tahirah answered. "I tell you so you are prepared. Sometimes strange things like love occur and if we do not hear stories that we won't believe them. That's why you need to know, so when love or heartbreak – or anything __life changing – happens, you will be prepared."_

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That day it was pouring with rain. The sky outside never grew lighter than a dull gray that came from neither east or west, occasionally flashing up with lightening. The thick glass window panes were a blur of moving water, washing away the outside world so it felt like that everything had disappeared but the small castle room in which Kioka sat, alone. She was supposedly hemming one of Roseanna's night gowns but instead was looking up, out of the window into the pale grey sky. She had always been fascinated with rain, ever since she had arrived in England. There had never been much of it when she had been growing up, and the grey skies and torrents of cool water were a mystery to her.

Listen to the steady pounding of the rain against the walls, Kioka closed her eyes. She imagined the hard drops beating away at the walls, washing away this fragile city and its citizens, the castle and everyone in it, good and bad, until she was left in the world with nothing but her name to prove she existed. In the end, nothing would matter: her years of learning and training, her skills, her intelligence, her appearance – all would be worthless when it came down to it. She wondered what she would be without the life that shaped her. What had she spent her life preparing for? Her skills, her entire childhood were wasted now – here she was, playing maid to an arrogant noblewoman and living like she had never known anything else.

She wanted to go home. This country tired her, its unhappiness and pain, the hunger and poverty of its inhabitants. It was not her cause to fight for, and so she didn't, only observed. She saw the filthy, narrow streets with their grimy villagers who lived their entire lives from one day to another, never thinking or hoping for anything better. This was their lives, a monotonous dull route eventually leading to their death. Their lives were wasted, she was sure. So many lives were. Lady Marian was an example. Brave and beautiful, clever and honourable, she deserved to be treated as a hero. Instead she was locked away for wanting to do good for her people. The only ones in this country who were happy were the cruel rich, such as Roseanna and Vaysey. It wasn't fair.

Kioka frowned. The rain grew louder, grey light showing everything in a monochromatic shade. For the first time, a stirring of hope, of wanting something more fluttered in her heart like a bird wanting to be freed. Maybe this was her destiny. All her life she had been waiting for a chance to prove herself – was she really content to be a servant any longer? Or did she want more? With these thoughts came a rush of determination. Maybe these were not her people. Maybe this was not her country, not her cause. But she had been waiting her whole life for this. She would bide her time, wait a little longer. But she would play her part in saving this country, which she was beginning to think of as her home. After all, it was the role she had been born to play.

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Rain always made Marian think of Robin. She didn't know why. Maybe it was the way the rain always seemed to invite reflection. The skies seemed more open, inviting thoughts from deep within her. Marian was usually certain of her role in life, her part as daughter, as noblewoman, as the Night Watchman. It was when the rain poured down and everything was still that stirrings of uncertainty crept into her mind, long-fingered tentacles of cold doubt. She leant against the wall of the corridor, staring out at the moving sheet of water. It amazed her that this water, in its own way alive, was mere inches away from her and yet she stayed dry, separated from the rain by stone and a few fragile colonnades. It made her feel both daring and scared, free and uncertain. Marian had always liked the feel of the wind in her hair and now she stretched out her palm, enjoying the steady beat of the tiny drops.

She missed Robin, more than he would ever now. She could not, would not tell him. If only he knew what power he had over her. If only he knew that every time he offered her a place by his side, she struggled to turn him down. It was a greater choice than that. It was a choice between one love and another, between a life of danger and one of security. It was a choice between freedom and duty, and Marian was trapped in the middle. Now, looking out at the rain, freedom tempted her more than ever before, as if the pounding beat was whispering to her. _Freedom, love, the life you dreamed of... _And it was the life she'd dreamed of. So why did she find it so hard to accept?

For her father of course. For duty and obligation, for not wanting to shame her name. And partly, she finally admitted, out of fear. That would mean breaking away from everything she knew, and she wasn't sure if she was strong enough. Marian straightened up with a sigh. Some things were best left for the future to decide.

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Rain reminded Allan of his childhood. He sat outside the camp, feeling the rain pour down on his skin. It brought a sort of simplicity to it – in the end it remained the same, unchanging and unhidden. It had no secrets. Feeling the steady rhythm of the drops, soaked hair dripping into his eyes, he let himself remember the easy days. Before he had had to lie to friends and family, before he knew the meaning of love, back to when it was just him and Tom. Tom loved the rain – he'd spend hours out splashing around and then come back with a cold. Allan had been less partial to it (he hated getting cold) but today he sat there in peace, away from everyone and everything.

He wondered what would happen if the rain washed him away, washed away all the lies and the false happiness, the confidence and the smooth talk, just leaving his core. What would he be, when it came down to it? Good or bad? He used to know the answer – although he stole and lied and cheated, he was still a good person inside. Now he wasn't so sure. Maybe he should give up. Give up on Gisborne and his money; give up on being the liar and the spy. What had it got him? A few pennies were hardly worth what he was doing. He didn't want to betray his friends anymore. They were his family, his life, the only thing he had in the world. They had given him the first home he had known, and how had he repaid them? By selling them out for the promise of riches someday. Maybe he really was a bad person after all. But he was scared of the consequences; if Gisborne decided to inform Robin of his treachery, if he was killed, if he got found out anyway. He was scared.

Djaq would know what to do. To her, everything was simple – there was good and bad, right and wrong. You weren't in the middle; you were one or the other. Allan wondered what she would say if she knew what he was doing to them, what he had been before, how he felt about her. She was the only person he could trust – even Will was slowly turning against him. But Djaq was not so easily turned. She would stick by him, he hoped, and that was the only way he would ever gain the courage to confess, to stand against Gisborne. She was like his salvation, even if she would never know it. Because Allan couldn't tell her. He was scared again: in case she didn't feel the same, in case she felt he was using her like he had used every other woman in his life. He would never tell her.

"I'm a coward," he spoke out loud into the rain, and it felt good. "I'm a coward but I love her. God, I really love her." And for the moment, that was enough.


	11. Death's Threshold

**This chapter was particularly hard to write. I'm still unsure about it to be honest, but I always knew this scene would be hard to write. It had to happen at some point, for the story to keep moving. This chapter is sad, I warn you. The next chapter will be too, I think. Just a warning. Anyway, reviews are _vital _- seriously. Here's the deal - I need four reviews before I post the next chapter. Okay? Good. Review Responses for my lovely reviewers:**

**Pig-The-Prophetess Wow, congratulations! Was that the young leaders camp? Some of my friends went on that one, you see... It was based on a story I heard when I was little - my dad went to India a lot, and that was in a sort of folk story book he brought back once. I could only remember the basic outline, so a lot of it was made up and I was worried it wouldn't match up to the original! I have to say, that chapter was a rather angsty one - I do like showing how characters are feeling though. It gives it more depth. Allan would have insecurities, particularly because his 'activities' are beginning to interfere with Djaq's safety. Trust me, he won't confess his love for quite a while yet. I have a lovely little plot which I'm rather proud of beams.**

**xpinkkittyx Melissa and Alison respectively, thank you very much ;) Especially to Melissa for reading this even though she has no idea what it's about.**

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That day the skies were darkest grey; huge, ominous clouds filled the sky, hanging over the city as if filled with the weight of death that the day would bring. The air was heavy, a chilling yet stiflingly hot atmosphere that pressed upon every man, woman and child. That week had been spent bring the casualties of war back to the capital, corpses and injured men streaming through the gates day and nightIt seemed that the line was endless; how many had they lost to war? Young boys and old men, wise warriors and foolishly brave amateurs – all had been brought down by English sword and bow. They lay in their thousands, in hospitals and some schools (there were so many that the universities had to be refitted as temporary wards). Through the deserted streets echoed cries of mourning and grief, as a mother buried her son and a wife watched her husband slip away. 

_The Obemaek family dressed in black, even though those they mourned were not their own. Safiya'__s father__ Amir__, as the Royal Physician, had offered his services to those grievously wounded. Silently, fifteen-year-old Safiya accompanied him – she recognised a call for help when it came. Dressed in a simple grey gown, dark curls pinned back in a neat bun, she sat in the city's largest hospital with some of those whose injuries were slightly less serious. Her father was nearby, seeing to a man with a shattered collar bone. Safiya sighed, looking out of the high windows at the grey sky._

_Beside her, the man stirred and she looked down anxiously. He was barely older than her, just a boy really. He didn't deserve to be lying here, in a gloomy hospital with wounds that would never heal. He should be with his family. The boy had suffered three arrows into his ribcage. Miraculously, he had made it here. Her father had taken her aside and whispered the truth – he had no chance of survival. The only thing she could do was help him through it. Now, observing him sadly, she knew his story was the same as every other boy in this ward; he had left home to join the army for war and glory, leaving his heartbroken family behind. And it had all ended up in tragedy._

_His name was Tamil and he was only her age. It wasn't fair. Safiya clutched his hand as he stirred again, crying out in his sleep. She whispered soothingly to him, glancing over at her father frantically for help. Tamil's eyes flew open, red and sore as they took her in. He gripped her hand so tightly that it hurt, and she had to fight to stop herself gasping in pain._

_"It hurts," he whispered. "Make it go away please." Safiya nodded, knowing the truth. _

_"Soon it will be over," she replied softly, the cold reality like a physical blow to her. Until this moment she had never seen real death. Her father heard them and got up, quickly striding over._

_"Is it time?" He asked, and she nodded. Safiya didn't trust herself to speak. She didn't want him to die. Her father went over and took Tamil's other hand. "I'm sorry," he murmured. Tamil's eyes widened._

_"Am I going to die?" He asked. Amir nodded. "I don't- I can't – please don't let me die. I want to live," he pleaded, his voice dry and cracked. Then his body tensed as a wave of pain shot through him. "Where's my family? Why aren't they here?"_

_"I'm sorry__," Safiya repeated. "I'm so, so sorry. They're not here."_

_"Why?" Tamil begged an answer. "I needed-__" his__ body buckled as it prepared to give up on life. "I needed to tell them. To say I love them." Safiya cried freely now, tears running down her face._

_"I'm sure they knew," she told him passionately. "They loved you too Tamil. They really did." Her words seemed to bring some sort of peace to him, and he relaxed slightly._

_"That's good," he sighed, breathing out heavily. Then, as his eyes darkened, he whispered, "I really don't want to die." With that, his body drooped and sank onto the hard bed. Safiya clung onto his hand, cheeks glistening. Her father came round, hugging her tightly._

_"Well done Safi," he told her. "Death is always hard." She nodded and wiped away her tears. "__Look at me." She looked up, taking a deep breath. "Is this honour? Is this glory? No, this is cruel and untimely death. There are few who deserve to die in this world, Safi, and as a warrior you will take many lives of those just like you. You owe a debt to those lives, and there is only one way you can pay it. You have a gift for healing – use it wisely. Saving lives will keep you sane one day. Remember, we are only human; we have no right to take a life and not repay it. So heal and spare those you can, my love. In the end you will be happier for it."_

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As soon as Marian woke, she knew something was wrong. She felt it in her bones, as the hard slats of the wooden bed pressed against her body and chill air filled the room through a crack in the window. She shivered, trying to shrug off the overall feeling of dread. It stayed with her as she sat up, placing bare feet on the icy stone slabs. Roseanna slept peacefully, golden hair spread across the pillow. Evidently she was perfectly fine. Marian stood, shuddering in the glacial temperature. She slowly crossed the room, half afraid of what she might find behind the door. Opening it slightly, she realised it was even colder in there. Kioka lay on a tiny bed in the corner, rolled into a ball tightly with the blanket wrapped round her. Marian gave a small smile at her sleeping face – a mix of stress and concern, laughter and deviousness. Then she turned to her father and the ominous dread hit its peak.

His face was paler than she'd ever seen it before, eyes closed tightly. His body was perfectly still, and a chill crept over Marian's heart as she gazed upon him. For a moment time was frozen into a terrible chilling silence as everything in the room sharpened in Marian's vision with a harsh clarity. Then she stepped forward tentatively and the moment was gone. Everything flew into motion. Kioka's eyes flickered open, taking in the entire scene in one blink, and she was up on her feet in seconds. Marian noticed none of this however – her focus was solely on her father. Kneeling at his side, she caught hold of his wrist gently. It was ice cold to her touch.

"Father?" She whispered softly, unable to believe the truth. "Father, wake up. Please open your eyes." Her voice cracked. "Please, please don't do this." Kioka came and knelt beside her, examining him with her catlike eyes. She made no judgements, but laid a cool hand on Marian's arm. "No..."

"I'm sorry Milady," Kioka murmured softly. Her hair fell in loose waves around her face as she bowed her head over the body. Marian blinked in confusion and denial, her breath catching in her throat. Why was Kioka apologising? Unless...no, it couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true. Gripping the edge of the bed so tightly her knuckles went white, she held back hot, furious tears.

"No, don't say that," she ordered Kioka ferociously. "You make it sound like..." And then she could not deny it any longer. Tears poured down her cheeks as she clutched her father's hand, now so cold and limp. "No, no, no!" She screamed. It shouldn't end this way. She hadn't even said goodbye. "Why?" She howled, and her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. Roseanna, woken up by her cries, stepped into the room cautiously.

"For heaven's sake, what is the matter?" She asked snappily. Then she saw Edward and her eyes widened. "Oh my..." Marian ignored her, still holding her father's hand as though she would never let it go. Sobs wracked her body. For a moment there was complete silence, as each woman contemplated this terrible event. Beside Marian, Kioka stirred gently, dark hair obscuring Marian's view of her face. She could've been smiling or weeping – it was impossible to tell. At last, Roseanna spoke up. "So...does this mean you inherit his estate?"

Marian gasped as if she'd been slapped. In a single moment, all her anguish turned to wrath. She turned, about to stand and punch the little witch's face, but Kioka moved first. Suddenly she was on her feet, moving swiftly to stand between Marian and Roseanna. She had been mourning, in her own silent way. Her eyes were hard as she stared at Roseanna.

"Go and get the Sheriff," the Saracen girl ordered. "He will want to be informed of this tragedy." Roseanna opened her mouth to protest but a single glance from Kioka sent her out the door hurriedly. The authority in the serving girl's voice spoke volumes. Marian wanted to thank her, but somehow she couldn't get the words out. Instead, she knelt on the floor, her body shaking with silent tears. Kioka knelt beside her, eyes filled with more understanding than Marian had expected to see from anyone. "He was a good man, and he died a peaceful death," she stated softly. Marian nodded, sniffing.

"I didn't even say goodbye," she choked, and Kioka took her hand.

"Milady, it is rare in life that our loved ones ever get long death speeches," she told Marian firmly. "You loved your father very much, and he knew it. I know that he did."

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_Seventeen-year-old Kioka lounged lazily on a daybed in the sitting room reserved for family. Her eyes scanned the pages of a book in boredom, her fingers occasionally moving __to turn over the thin paper. __She wore the jet black dress required of her by morning, and her listless posture proved that she truly grieved. Djaq, whom Kioka had grown up with, had been killed in the service of the Royal Army two months ago. He had been like a brother to her, and now he was gone. His absence had hit Safiya devastatingly hard; he had been her idol, her friend and her support.__ And yet his life had been wiped out so terribly simply, in one stroke from an English blade, like the cutting of thread. Another life claimed by war. Kioka's__ dark eyes looked up as she heard the city's alarm bells ring in the distance, __growing louder as they echoed in each district. She dropped the book as she stood up swiftly, crossing the room in a swish of silk fabric. Kioka quickly scaled the staircase and opened the door to her father's study, pausing to knock only after she had entered. He looked up, with an expression graver than she had ever seen before. Her heart began to pound._

_"Is it bad news?" She asked. Everyone knew what the alarm bells meant – flooding, quarantine or an attack somewhere. Jamal Fonfala gazed at his daughter grimly and slowly pushed a small slip of paper towards her. Kioka picked it up from his desk, recognising it as one of the many reports he received every hour. With seventeen years of experience, she had no trouble deciphering the code. The message was simple, merely a few lines:_

_'Slave traders attack in Kanodong district. Many killed. Many poor kidnapped as slaves. Noble houses taken or killed: Gelodon, Rajumat, __Isakar__, Obemaek.'_

_For a moment it felt like the whole world had stopped. The slip of paper fell__ to the floor. Kioka swayed, everything around her roaring painfully as she struggled to make sense of the printed letters. Obemaek. Uncle Amir. Safiya.__ Dead? No, they couldn't be...Safiya couldn't be gone..._

_"What happened?" She managed to whisper. A hard knot between her ribs tightened painfully as she silently pleaded for hope. To her despair, her father's eyes were filled with tears._

_"I'm so sorry, Kitten. Slave traders attacked the Kanodong district. They swept from east to west. Some of my agents were at the Obemaek house. There is evidence of quite a fight – it seems they did not go easily. Safiya's body was nowhere – we assume she was taken. But...my Kitten, Amir was killed. His throat was cut." Even as he sp__oke, Kioka felt a rush of relief. Safiya could still be alive. She clung to that thread of hope like a lifebelt. Then the pain and reality set in. Amir, like a second father to her, was dead. Murdered by a band of lowlife criminals. She felt hot tears pricking up behind her eyes._

_"I need to be alone," she whispered and her father nodded__ understandingly__. Slowly, she drifted from the room as her mother came rushing in worriedly. As she made her way along the corridor to her room, she heard a distant wail that signified her mother had heard the news. It was a long, inhuman sound filled with bitter pain and heartbreak that pierced Kioka's soul and suddenly she could not hold back her tears any longer. Kioka swept into her room, stumbling blindly across the floor and to the balcony. As she clutched the stone balustrade, the cold air hit her face, drying the fast-falling tears that spilled from her eyes like a waterfall of hurt and sorrow. She stared out at the city, and wept for every single person who had died an untimely, cruel death. An entire family wiped out in the coldest way possible. Kioka stood there for what seemed like years, until her tears dried and she was left staring blankly into the sky. How could she cope, without Safiya? It was like half of her soul was missing. Clenching her fists, she stared up at the sky and did the only thing she could think of to do: prayed._

_'Allah, I know I never pray to you. I know I haven't been good all my life and followed your commandments but I beg of you only one favour and it's not even for me. Please protect Safiya, wherever she is. She deserves a good life, of all people. Don't let her get hurt. Give her a chance to live out her dreams please, and __help her along the way. Don't let her die alone. That's all I want. Just look after her. And let me see her again one day. Let her know – I'll miss her.'_


	12. To Break Away

**Ok, this story is finally starting to move fast! You'll all love next chapter, I promise you (which I will only post with 4 reviews!!) First things first - this chapter is quite a bit longer than most of my other chapters. This is due to two main events I needed to fit in. Anyway, let me tell you what I've finally realised - people don't read this because it's AllanDjaq. Ah well. To make me feel better (and update faster) can everyone who reads this please review??**

**Review Responses:**

**Pig-The-Prophetess Ah well, good for you! Melissa reads all of my stories, even this one although she doesn't watch RH. I don't even ask her to, she's _that_ lovely. And thank you for the compliment - she's always confused :) My English teacher has been doing pathetic fallacy too! It's rather effective, isn't it? I do have to say, that last chapter was a bit doom-and-gloom, but next chapter should have you satisfied (this one too, but the next one more) Now, Tamil's story was hard to write because of trying to make death realistic. It's a lot harder than I anticipated, for all the death scenes. I did feel sorry for Lucy (I've just watched this week's - it's nice to see Allan still has a part. I do like his character, I do indeed :P) That particular line 'cutting of thread' was actually taken from Greek myth surprisingly - a throwback to the days when I was obsessed by them. Aww thank you...I live to please!!**

**emilyanne-xo I'm sorry for upsetting you - I promise, that was probably the saddest in this story. Next chapter should be good, if you can guess what's coming from this one!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Hood. Seriously.**

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_The day she left was warm. It was autumn already, the sun slightly colder, the skies slightly darker. On that day however, golden light spread across the courtyard, illuminating every stone feature and vivid green plant, somehow softening the landscape. The carriage and guard stood waiting; a solemn procession of dark wood and stoic soldiers in black to carry the young woman across many countries. The journey would be long and hard – the guards were the best in the city. They were equipped with the finest weapons money could buy, and all had been personally instructed by the greatest war heroes of their time. The cost had been great. The Fonfala treasuries had been emptied by half, in order to assure their daughter safe passage to England. Life in Jerusalem was too dangerous now. A mere month ago the family who had already lost so many loved ones was struck by another cruel catastrophe. Kioka's eldest brother Rikash, tall and brave, strong and passionate, had been slaughtered mercilessly in the front line. Gradually, everyone they loved was being cut out of this life, leaving behind a family brutally crippled by loss. Fearing for his seventeen-year-old daughter's safety, Jamal Fonfala made a momentous decision. He would send her to England and secure her a position there. It was hardly the life he had dreamt up for his beloved daughter, but she would be safer there than in this country of war and death._

_Kioka__drifted down the stone steps __slowly, savouring every last moment in her home. She imprinted the images into her memory, trying to cling onto each seemingly unimportant detail. It seemed every inch of ground held precious memories: there was the tree that Safiya had fallen out of when she was seven; there was the pot that was cracked at the edge where she had pushed Safiya into it; there was their favourite spot, where the sun stayed the longest. Kioka reached up to languidly brush a strand of loose hair from her eyes, gazing wistfully at her home. All through the weeks spent __preparing,__ she had stayed strong for her family. She was determined to keep up this __now__, to ease the pain._

_"Allah bless you, my baby," her mother whispered as they reached the bottom of the stairs and enfolded her in a tight embrace. Kioka clung to her, the little girl in her begging not to leave. But eventually she drew back, straightening up t__o the full height of her slim frame. _

_"I'll be fine, don't worry Mother," she tried to comfort her, laying a reassuring hand over Tahirah's. "England is simply a new adventure. I'll be back soon, I promise." Her father stood by, watching the proceedings gravely. Meeting his gaze, she saw the saddest expression he had ever expressed. It had been hard for him, Kioka knew, and now she hugged him tightly, breathing in his scent for the last time. _

_"Be careful Kitten," he advised her, and she smiled sadly. "Don't let those foolish English girls boss you around. Use your skills and education wisely – remember__ it wouldn't be ideal for them to find out your true rank and position."_

_"Kioka the Lady's Maid," Kioka muttered drily. "Don't worry Father, I will be a very good girl and try not to get into trouble." That made them all laugh, even her teary-eyed mother. "I love you," Kioka told her parents sincerely, once the laughter died. "I promise I will make you proud."_

_"We know you will," Tahirah answered firmly, and Kioka didn't miss the hint of steel in her mother's words. "You always do." Holding back tears, she knew from her parent's expressions that now was the time. Today she would leave her home forever, to an unknown country and its distant __people. __All her life she had wanted to travel, to cross the world. She did not realise how vast and lonely it seemed until she had no choice._

_"Goodbye," she stated, and into it fell the full force of her love and sadness, how much she would miss them.__ A__fter all, some things could not be put into words._

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Smoky incense rose into the air, the white spirals drifting through the air towards the grey sky. There were no clouds, only a huge expanse of palest grey that made even the most important feel small and insignificant. A cool, soft breeze rustled the skirts and shirts of the men and women gathered to mourn Sir Edward of Knighton. Noble folk from all over England came to pay their respects to the honourable man, and peasants crowded outside the gate in memory of their benign former Sheriff. The castle courtyard was filled with black mourning garb, and even the poorest of beggars had managed to find a few scraps to make a black armband. He had been loved greatly, Edward had.

Marian wrapped her arms around herself, trying to rub away the chill that clung to her bones like a shroud. All around her, slow conversation went on in soft murmurs; the ceremony was over, it was time to give condolences. Trying to focus on the proceedings, she straightened and her eyes found the person in front of her: Lady Alice Holt. The stately, aging noblewoman took Marian's cold hand in her own, gloved one.

"My dear, I am so sorry for your loss," she offered solemnly. Marian nodded as kindly as she possibly could, even though all she wanted was to be free of this formality. "Sir Edward was a good man and the country will surely suffer from his passing away."

"Thank you kindly, Lady Alice," Marian answered automatically. Her eyes were misted over, thinking of other things. As the tall woman moved on and other jostled forward to offer their consolations and grief, Marian found that her subconscious took hold to follow the proceedings she had known since birth. Her mind drifted to other things, and she felt terribly alone in that crowded courtyard. There was a gaping hole inside of her, a raw wound fighting to be avenged, and the struggle for control was becoming increasingly hard. Every moment she spent pretending to be calm and collected, she felt like she was drowning in a stifling silence of obligations and formalities. Standing there, in that courtyard, she blocked all sounds out so the world was simply still, an image in front of her. She could hear nothing, feel nothing, only emptiness. Suddenly she felt as if she was dropping away, into the hole of sorrow and loneliness her father had left, and for some reason it terrified her. She didn't want to be surrounded by people that didn't understand her pain, but neither did she want to be alone in the cold world. It scared her.

Roseanna stepped up to her side, and all at once her senses sprang back into action. Her world was filled with sound, hundreds of voices, footsteps and the soft moan of the wind. Roseanna took charge of the queue in front of Marian, who didn't mind; she was better at that anyway. At least this was one favour she had done her. Roseanna looked beautiful as always, hair a shining golden light in the dark surroundings, blue eyes teary and distressed. Even Marian was almost taken in, although she knew the truth – Roseanna cared little for grieving or Edward, only that she appeared a perfect noblewoman. She could play a part to perfection when she wished to.

Guy came over, moving through the crowds slowly. When Roseanna became aware of this, she graciously ended the conversation with the elderly nobleman she spoke to and gave Guy a small, sorrowful smile. _Oh she __is__ good at pretending_, Marian reflected sourly, as she caught the looks that were exchanged. Guy reached them and gave Marian a tiny, acknowledging nod – she couldn't help feeling slighted as he turned away from her. There was once a time when he would've paused to offer at least a few words of condolence. That was before Roseanna came and hypnotised him, before Roseanna was his one and only thought, before she was the only person he saw. There was a time when he had felt that way for Marian, and a part of her did miss it, although she knew it was better this way. She missed having someone who was always around to care.

Guy and Roseanna spoke softly, her eyes cast downwards like a perfect model of grieving niece. Guy was obviously taken in, Marian observed bitterly, as he responded tenderly, with the same uncertainty he once used with her. She didn't particularly want to hear what they were saying; she had a pretty good idea of how it would go. Suddenly the pair were embracing, Guy's arms around Roseanna's small frame, and Marian shook her head in disbelief. She saw what Guy didn't: Roseanna's rosy lips curving up in a smug smile; her blue eyes narrowing triumphantly at Marian; her victorious, self-satisfied expression. It almost made Marian laugh – did she underestimate the value human affection that much? Of course she did; she had never been without it.

Looking round in order to distract herself, her breath caught in her throat. Her sweeping eyes met another pair, green and full of as much sorrow as her own. Robin. He stood, partially hidden in shadow between a large cart and a post. He was alone, or so it seemed – Marian assumed that his gang were somewhere close, watching his back as always. Her sole focus was him though, and she did not glance about for Djaq's striking skin or Will's thin figure. He was there. He cared and he was there, to give her solace in the stretching loneliness. There was a connection between them, like a lifeline through the crowds, and at that moment she felt more love for him than she had ever done before.

Starting forward, she attempted to force her way through the crowds, but was accosted by an elderly woman who had once been a great friend of her father. She tried to remain patient as the unobservant noblewoman babbled on about her memories, ignoring Marian's desperation to get away. She needed to be with Robin, to feel the true grief of someone else, to have his strong arms around her. Eventually, the unsuspecting woman drew to a close. Marian muttered a hasty farewell and pressed forward anxiously. But she was to be disappointed. In her distraction, Robin had slipped away into the shadows. She was alone again, her only loved one left gone. Standing there, watching the space where he had been only moments ago, knowledge closed over her shoulders like a chill blanket. She knew what he wanted her to do.

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Kioka was in the rooms alone, hemming a dress absentmindedly. Occasionally she accidently stabbed a fingertip, and then spent several moments sucking the wound while she reflected on the events outside. She had not been allowed to attend the funeral – it was for nobles only. That was a shame, because she truly had mourned Sir Edward's death. Often (when Marian was out) his care had been left to her, and they had shared several conversations. He had wanted to know of current affairs and life in the Holy Land; she had wanted to know of Nottingham under his rule and tales of Robin Hood. His death had saddened her greatly, but the loss of so many that were far closer to her had hardened her. It was Lady Marian she was concerned for – the noblewoman was now, seemingly, alone in the world. Kioka wasn't ignorant; she knew the only reason Marian remained in the castle was because of her father. The question was, would she now join Robin Hood in the forest?

The door opened and Marian came in, looking very distracted. She slowly crossed to the window, staring out blindly at the proceedings before turning away to sit on her bed. For several moments the two sat in silence, Kioka still hemming and Marian playing with her fingers anxiously. The funeral after-gathering was not finished, so Kioka was unsure of how Marian planned on explaining her absence to Roseanna and the Sheriff. Unless...

"Kioka, can I trust you?" Marian asked at last, hesitantly. Kioka gazed at her levelly for a moment. Then she laid down the dress, turning her attention to the distressed noblewoman.

"That's up to you, Milady," she replied. "Do you trust me?" Marian frowned. "If it helps, I do swear to keep silent about whatever you wish to disclose to me now." For several minutes, there was silence. Then unexpectedly, Marian laughed.

"You always were clever," she complimented her. "I noticed your choice of words: 'disclose to me now'. I take it this means that if in future I should ever trust you with anything else, if you should betray me then you will say 'I only promised to keep your secrets one time'. Was that your intention, as...insurance for the times yet to come?"

"You speak wisely. That was my purpose," Kioka admitted. "I feel it's better to always have a back-up, Milady. But, if I may say, I have kept your secrets before this." Now was better than never, she reflected – if Marian was planning to run off to the forest, which Kioka strongly suspected she was, she might as well know that her secret was not as unknown as she thought. As anticipated, Marian stared back curiously.

"Oh really?" She questioned. "And what secret may this be?"

"One bigger than you would ever want a maid to know."

"So, are you threatening me or proving your loyalty?" Marian asked. Her eyes were dark though, and Kioka knew that she was beginning to realise. As if to further strengthen this theory, the noblewoman shrugged distractedly. "Actually, don't answer. I don't have the time. I need...your advice."

"I'll do my best, Milady," Kioka promised and she meant it. Marian paused, about to pour forth her problems, but unexpectedly she shook slightly and sank back down. Kioka sighed, and moved from the chair to sit beside her mistress and friend. "Milady, I have been protecting your secrets ever since I arrived," she whispered. "I promise you can trust me, because I know what your dilemma is – or at least I think I do. I know about your connections with Robin Hood." Marian's eyes widened. She sat bolt upright, her face paling.

"How? How did you-?"

"Let's just say I have my ways," Kioka shrugged. She wasn't about to reveal her true persona, no matter how much she wanted Marian's trust. The noblewoman frowned, then her whole body slumped.

"You know what I am going to say then," she stated despondently. "Can you tell me what I should do? Live with Robin or stay here?"

"Which do you want more?" Kioka asked respectfully. She was beginning to see where this was leading. "...Or can you not decide?"

"I..." Marian froze. Then she sighed. "I don't know my own mind. Part of me wants to go into the forest, to fight injustice openly, to be a hero for the poor and to be with..." She trailed off again, blushing slightly. Kioka smiled knowingly. "But then, what if we don't succeed? What if we are all caught and hanged? I'm not cowardly...it's just...I'm scared it will all be in vain."

"With all due respect, no battle was ever won without risks," Kioka pointed out. "If I may say..." Marian nodded. "It seems to me, the real reason is that you are scared of change. And it is understandable. It is a big change, a big risk, a lot of heartache to break away from home to go somewhere unknown." The words bringing back personal memories, she added: "Trust me, I have experience."

"Scared..." Marian murmured. Her eyes were half closed, re-evaluating everything. Kioka knew the feeling: when your whole life flashes before your eyes; when memories seem to cling to you like chains pulling you back; when the whole world awaits and it suddenly seems much bigger than in all your dreams. "I can't be scared. Not any more." She straightened proudly. "No, I can do this. For my father, for the helpless poor, for everything that I've watched innocent people lose many times over." This resolution seemed to give her new strength; her eyes shone and she breathed faster. She was over the uncertainty – now she only anticipated the unknown and adventurous. "I have one more thing to ask of you, Kioka. What will you do, when I go?"

The question took Kioka by surprise. She could not pretend she hadn't thought of this many nights since Sir Edward's death, but never had her dreams seemed so close and so real. Suddenly she was scared too. Her childhood fantasies, her ambitions, her every wish was within her grasp but she was no longer sure of whether she should take it. She did not fear for her future – it would certainly be better than remaining here – or her safety – when had she ever cared about that? – or even her chance of death in a foreign land. None of that really bothered her...so what did? _Safiya_, came the answer. Did she really want to live out her dream without the girl she had spent her whole life dreaming with? For a moment her ambitions seemed futile, vapid beside Safiya's ghost. Then the words of her father sprung into her mind, unbidden. _'Sometimes in this life we have to leave things behind. Whether it is possessions or loved ones, all can make us feel like we cannot go on without them. But if we only looked back and never forward, we would never go anywhere.' _Missing Safiya would not bring her back, and neither would abandoning their hopes and dreams. But maybe, by living them out, she would make her best friend proud. Kioka looked at Marian, tall and strong, so brave in spite of all life had thrown at her. Even if she'd had a choice, she would've served her.

"I will stay with you Milady," she promised. "Until the very end."


	13. To Come So Far

**For this chapter, I would like to show my great appreciation to everyone who reviewed my last. That's why this chapter is dedicated to you. I hope you like how I portrayed it. I don't know if anyone's noticed, but chapters have been getting longer - now I have more to put in them! Finally, thirteen chapters on, I'm getting somewhere. This one is rather more violent than the rest - I decided to put in my version of how Djaq came to be in England. Hopefully it isn't _that _bloody, and I confess I have no idea how to swordfight, so I hope it is realistic! Ok, next chapter will need 5 reviews (which I'm sure I can count on you wonderful people for). Please review, even if you want to say how awful I am. Even that would make my day! Review Responses:**

**spooksrocks Thank you! I had to rewrite that several times - grief is actually very hard, which I didn't realise until I tried to portray it. I'm glad it was worth it!**

**Harri Thank you for reading! I myself don't particularly mind WillDjaq or AllanDjaq, I just happened to want to try something different. Obviously there was always going to be some WillDjaq because I try to stay true to the show, which means that Will thinks he loves Djaq. As for the flashbacks, I try to state the age of the girls every time, to make them slightly less confusing, but if you have any other ideas let me know!**

**Hooty-McBoon Thank you! I do try! Please keep reading, it'll get more fast-paced soon!**

**emilyanne-xo By sheer coincidence, I do in fact want to be an author when I'm older! How did you guess? Thank you so much, I don't know why but I've always loved descriptive passages. I have enjoyed keeping everyone on tenterhooks about Kioka and Djaq meeting, so now I present the scene that you've been waiting for! I'm sure you are, it's all about finding what you write best.**

**Kates Master's Sister Either way you say it, you were right! I always found it funny when I was writing that she had no idea who the Saracen outlaw really was...Thanks for reading!**

**Pig-The-Prophetess I know you do! Some yours I probably would count as two, but I love long and interesting reviews, they actually make me happier than four short ones could! I think I'm actually better at writing replies than reviews, but oh well. Saying goodbye is always difficult - we may think we know, but how many of us can say how we'd really feel if we had to leave home? Marian is very interesting to write, because I think deep down all she really wants is to be loved, but feels like she has to cope on her own. Guy was always around, even if he was the bad guy, and she must miss that affection from him. I'm not quite following the BBC plotline, because this week confused me (I don't care what she thinks, I think she still rather likes Guy!) Why would she return? Having Marian in the forest is far more interesting. I'm very pleased to satisfy you - Kioka and Djaq will meet, after all the time I've made you wait!! Thank you so so much for all your support - this story is nowhere near finished but believe it or not, I kind of have a plot (It's not quite finished yet, plots aren't really my thing) and you just keep making me want to write more!**

**xXxSour-LemonxXx Glad to grant your wish! Thanks for reviewing!**

**Fwoggeh No, I love long-and-rambling reviews like yours! They're far better than five small ones in my opinion, not that I don't value them too! I can't believ you read it in one sitting - does it make sense? I'm glad I'm able to write such heartfelt scenes - I had to put a bit of WillDjaq in, to stay true to the show. I try very hard to remain in character, if only because the characters are all so much fun to write! Roseanna is incredibly fun, mainly because of the evil remarks she comes out with. The flashbacks are to try and keep Kioka real, by giving her a past to build her character. Don't die, I updated as soon as I could! As for your second review, I _am _13, and although it's sometimes hard to be taken seriously, writing has always been my passion. Enjoy and thanks for reviewing!!**

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_The night should've been dark, silent and peaceful as had been every other night of Safiya's childhood. The seventeen-year –old, unable to sleep, had gone to the window in the hope of being stilled by the cool night air. A very different sight greeted her, one that both chilled her to the bone and sent fire through her veins. __Fire.__ Bright, deadly flames licking the night sky, surrounding the charred skeletons of houses as the inhabitants ran screaming and weeping, attempting escape only to be pinned down and dragged away by men in dark clothes. __Slave traders, Safiya was__ old enough to realise, and she quickly donned some of her brother's remaining clothes. They would be easier to fight in, and now she ran through the corridors of her home to her father's bedroom._

_"Father, slavers!"__ She cried as she entered. Her father was already awake, dressing calmly as his unsheathed sword lay on the table. He looked at her gravely, and then she understood what would happen. She needed to fight, or she would die. __Or worse._

_"Get ready, Safi," her father warned. "Go get your blades." She wasted no time, racing back to her room to grab her sword. Just then, a huge crash sounded from downstairs, one that shook the house and almost broke her courage. But she clung to the hilt of her bright, shining blade and __waited. Another crash echoed through all the rooms, then the great doors splintered and the cries of the wicked men filled her ears. Her hair was loose, she realised, and tumbling all over her shoulders, but it was too late to solve that now. A shout of glee and the sound of steel on steel made her burst out of her room and down the hall, back to her father. She skidded outside, grabbing onto the doorframe. Five men battled her father, pausing to take in the sight of the young girl who challenged them._

_"Hurt him and you die," she warned, sounding braver than she felt. There was a silence as the men processed her words. Then two leapt forward, and she was forced into action. Her blade moved before her, meeting the curved sword of her first assailant with a strength that shook her steady arms. The slaver leered at her but she ignored it, focusing on her life's lessons. She could do this. Safiya quickly released the pressure on his sword, causing him to stumble, before spinning her sword in a fatal sweep across his chest. Blood spurted from the wound as he fell backward and for a moment she choked. That was the first man she'd killed. But she pushed it aside, because if killing was the only way to protect her family she would do it. The other men seemed unsure, her conquest lessening their self-confidence. Then they both leapt forward at once. _

_Her sword flew through the air in a figure of eight as she twisted it, slamming the hilt into one man's head as she spun, driving the sword across the air to slice the other's arm. Although he howled with pain, his eyes filled with hate and he brought his sword down upon her. Safiya blocked the blow, ducking and kicking out at his legs to send him tumbling. Then, barely knowing what she did, she __drove her blade into his stomach as he screamed and died. Her brain, focusing on remembering the skills of her youth, did not register this. Behind her, another man slashed his sword across her back and she cried out, leaping up to plunge her blade into his chest. The blood flowed out, coating her blade and spraying her body and clothes. She ignored it, turning to her father._

_A final man battled her father, this one far more skilled than the others. His sword was a lightning flash of silver steel as it flew through the air. She began to move across the room, trying to stop her father's opponent, but it was too late. As if in slow motion, the man's blade slid through the air, hacking into her father's throat as the life left his eyes. Safiya screamed, a raw cry of pain and fury, and brought her own sword down on the murderer's arm. With a howl of pain, he let her father's body drop to the floor like his severed arm._

_"You die now, little girl," he snarled coldly but Safiya felt no fear, only deepest hatred._

_"No you die, murderer," she hissed and her sword clashed upon his, the force driving him back. The depths of her loathing leant her strength and her lethal blade slammed into his stomach just as his cut her arm. Pulling the sword out, she stabbed him again and again. __"Killer!__Murderer!"__ She howled, the image of her brutally killed father burning her eyes. Bleeding from her back and arm, she steadied herself to deal with the rest. Her usually rational thoughts were clouded, and perhaps this was why she did not hear the huge man behind her until it was too late. He pinioned her arms, clamping a strong hand over mouth, and ignoring her kicking legs, carried her away from her home to __the bleak future._

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_"All dead, you say?" The captain of the slave traders repeated thoughtfully. He gazed down at the girl on her knees in front of him – bound and gagged, with wild black curls and hateful eyes. Her clothes were stained with blood and from what he had heard he guessed the blood wasn't all hers. "Well, fancy that. Five of my best men killed by a fiery little girl and her aging father. That takes some skill, girlie." Appraising her, a bright idea occurred to him and a nasty smile spread across his face. "Cut off her lovely curls boys, as short as any man would have his hair. She doesn't have much of a figure; no one will guess she's a girl until it's too late. We can get more for her as boy anyway."_

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If Kioka thought about it, breaking in and out of the castle wasn't actually that difficult. Robin Hood and his men seemed to be in and out of there all the time, so technically getting her and Marian out should be no problem. Of course they had a plan – it would've been foolish not to. But neither of the women was particularly worried about getting caught. After all, judging from the amount of times Robin and his men had escaped, the castle guards obviously weren't very good. The actual plan was simple. Kioka would go down first, to make sure the way was clear and to open the gate. Then Marian would come down after, with their few possessions. There had been much argument about who would go down first, but eventually Kioka had persuaded her that as a maid her presence would be less noticed or questioned. They would escape on horse, Marian had declared, although Kioka had no idea what they would do with the horses once they were in the forest. However, Marian was right; there was no way they could get there on foot. So now Kioka crept out of Marian's room silently, stalking through the night like a cat. She was dressed from head to toe in black, all of her clothes tight-fitting, as to lessen the chance that they would catch on something. A black shirt and trousers, tucked into her own black boots from home – who knew Marian would own these clothes? Apparently it was to do with being the Night Watchman. Now, a black band pinning her dark curls tightly onto her head, not a single strand loose, Kioka thanked Allah for her fortune in finding such a resourceful mistress.

There was no moon in the sky that night; dark clouds obscured the light that otherwise would've made sneaking around a lot harder. As it was, Kioka wasn't particularly worried about being discovered – she knew from her observations that the entire castle would be asleep. Still, she moved quickly through the corridors and down the stairs, knowing better than to trust in luck and get overconfident. Opening the kitchen door cautiously, she grinned as she saw the room was empty, just as she had suspected. Crossing the room silently, Kioka bent beside the door, pulling a set of lock picks from her belt. She had been adept them since the age of seven, and they were her favourite pair, out of the three she had brought to England. It only took her a few seconds to unlock the door – it was a crude, simple design that a child could've figured out. Then again, they didn't really expect people to break in through the kitchen; there were always servants or guards in there. Slipping outside, she looked up in the direction of Marian's room. A dim light shone out, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. It had been Marian's idea to cover the candle so no one would notice, Kioka remembered appreciatively. She struck a flint quickly, waving her hand in front of it to flash it three times. The light in the room brightened momentarily and Kioka knew Marian had got the message. She proceeded to the stables.

The inside of the building was dark; the only light was a low glow coming from a lantern on the far wall. Kioka wasted no time, quickly moving to the stalls of the horses Marian had told her to take. One was Marian's – a beautiful white stallion, which Marian had cleverly saddled and prepared. The other was a sturdy, reliable-looking brown mare, which had also been saddled. Kioka stepped into the stall of that one, stroking its silky mane to gain its trust. She liked horses; they had a trusting and honest nature, unlike many humans. Including her, she supposed with a wry grin. Mounting the horse, she rode it out of the stall so she stood in the centre isle. The other horses were either asleep or laying down in their stalls, chewing hay. Kioka sighed slightly, letting herself relax as she waited for Marian. Then the door opened to admit two guards.

Kioka gritted her teeth in annoyance, berating herself for the slip. Now she would have to put them out for a while, if not kill them, which would involve a fight. She should've known that there would be at least one guard. As the two men saw her, there was a pause as they took in the strange sight. Then they charged.

As the first one reached her, Kioka pushed off from the saddle horn, swinging her feet around to smash into the soldier with both feet. He fell to the ground as she dropped to the ground, the horse cleverly moving to the side. Obviously Marian picked horses wisely, Kioka thought gratefully. The second soldier came up behind her, drawing his sword and taking a swipe at her neck. She deftly blocked the blow, reflecting it with her well-worn cestuses, which she had thought to bring just in case. She thanked herself for that fortune, as she held more expertise in the old gloves with iron plates sewn across than anything else, save perhaps her daggers. Ducking to avoid the next strike, she kicked out at the soldier's shins, knocking him backward. The first soldier had risen though, and now he grabbed her arms tightly. Twisting in his grip, she slammed her foot into his stomach. As he doubled up, Kioka clasped her hands and brought them down on the back of his head. Seeing he was not quite unconscious as he hit the floor, she kicked his face. From the blood, she guessed his nose was broken, but decided that protecting herself and Marian was more important. Turning to the second soldier, she grinned deviously. He clutched his sword nervously, advancing on her again. Now, she wasted no time on fancy manoeuvres – her fist shot out, iron plates slammed into the bridge of his nose and knocking him out cold. As Kioka surveyed her work, she frowned. _I must be out of practice, for me to take so long to defeat them, _she mused_. I suppose_ _I__ shall have to catch up when we're in the forest._

"What happened here?" Came a voice, and Kioka turned to see Marian in the stable doors, looking very confused. The noblewoman crossed the room to her stall, leading the horse out while eyeing the guards warily. "I'm guessing you had some trouble?"

"Oh trust me, it was them that had the trouble," Kioka sighed as she dragged the two unconscious men behind the water trough. "I think we're clear to go." Marian shook her head but said nothing, mounting her stallion as Kioka followed. The two women rode out of the stable doors, Kioka shutting them behind her, and moved quietly across the courtyard to the gate. With a flash of a dagger, the lever was released and the portcullis shot up. Marian took a deep, steadying breath, and Kioka looked at her mischievously. "Here we go," she whispered, and they galloped off into the cold night air.

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Marian stared at the forest borders nervously. She had been waiting for so long for this moment to come, to take her place in the fight for justice, but now it had arrived she almost faltered. Steeling herself, she nudged the beautiful white stallion forward, into the shadows of the looming trees. Kioka followed her, sensing her discomfort and giving her time to think. Marian hadn't told Robin they were coming – what if they didn't want her? This almost made her turn back, but the image of the two guards lying on the stable floor reminded her of how far she had come.

"Kioka, did you kill those guards?" She asked, half dreading the answer. She hadn't known the maid had skills like that; to take out two grown men was no mean feat. Marian had never agreed with bloodshed, but she had no idea of Kioka's feelings on that matter, though she suspected that if she asked her not to kill, the girl probably wouldn't.

"Of course not," came the surprised answer. "I merely knocked them out."

"Good," Marian replied, the knot in her stomach lessening slightly. At least no one had died for her to come this far. They continued into the depths of the forest, a soft silence between them as mist floated around the tree trunks and the only sound was the muffled padding of hooves. Marian had her own thoughts, and she suspected Kioka did too. The girl never seemed to express much of her true feelings, but Marian wasn't ignorant. She knew that there was more to the Saracen maid than it seemed, and although at the moment time to think was all she could offer, one day she would repay her for her services.

It was nowhere near to dawn, but Marian knew they were coming close to the camp. Her surroundings were still dark, white mist clouding the earth as dew gathered on the leaves of nearby bushes. Suddenly a crazy urge overtook her – to sneak into the camp, surprise the gang and gain the advantage. She had no idea what drove her to it, but the unexpectedness of the plan tugged at the corners of her mind persistently, as hard as she tried to ignore it. At last, she swivelled in her saddle, disrupting Kioka from whatever she was thinking of.

"What do you say we surprise them?" Marian asked. "What if we avoid all the traps and the person on watch, and give them a shock?" For a moment Kioka looked utterly perplexed. Then a slow grin of mischief and delight spread across her features.

"That's a bit on the wild side," she commented. Marian shrugged. "Well, do you know where the traps are?"

"Yes, all of them. I also happen to know the person on watch is Allan, who'll never notice us. I doubt if he's even awake." Kioka laughed with anticipation.

"Let's go then!" She urged her horse on, eyes shining. Marian grinned too, reluctantly giving in to her dangerous side.

"Alright," she agreed. "Follow me and be careful with your footing. It might take a bit longer, but it will be oh so fun." The two set off, up the large him they had originally planned to circumnavigate. Marian was right – the path was loose and rocky, often covered over by branches. However, anticipation and a sense of wicked fun pushed them on, and eventually they reached a clump of trees beside the hill where the camp was. Once again, Marian's predictions were correct; Allan was indeed asleep, his silhouette slumped over and unmoving. Congratulating herself, she turned to Kioka. "We'll leave the horses here," she whispered. "Now for some real fun." They dismounted and crept towards the hill, as silent as shadows in the night. Creeping up the hill, Marian couldn't stop smiling. It had been a long time since she'd done anything as foolishly entertaining as this. Trying to remain deadly silent, she reached the stump where Allan slept, giving Kioka a knowing grin. Then, quite deliberately, she bent down and whispered into Allan's ear: "Wake up, Robin Hood's man, and tell him we've arrived."

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Kioka grinned as she watched Marian slide up to the sleeping outlaw. She hadn't known the normally serious noblewoman to have such a devious side to her, but somehow that raised Kioka's respect for her. Marian leant down to whisper something and the man leapt up at once, spinning wildly to stare at them with horror and confusion. His eyes found Marian's and Kioka could see his still-sleepy mind trying to place her. Then he stumbled back, half running and half skidding down the hill.

"Robin! Robin, wake up! Marian's here! Now!" Allan, as she remembered he was called, threw open a cleverly disguised door to continue his yelling. One by one, Robin Hood's men trooped out in confusion, trying to make sense of Allan's shouts. Marian quickly ran down the hill to stand in front of them, Kioka following in her lead. She grinned at them all, imprinting their faces into her memory. A large man with thick hair clutching a heavy staff; a lean man with soft brown hair who held a bow warily and gazed at Marian with a mixture of perplexity and delight; a smaller man with very light brown hair who looked completely bemused; her tall, thin acquaintance Will Scarlett. Allan was of medium height, with short brown hair and vivid green eyes. Behind him was a Saracen, with short dark hair and large, earth-shatteringly familiar eyes...

It was as if the world stopped moving. Kioka's breath caught in her throat, her shaking hands moving up to her mouth in amazed shock. She knew those eyes, knew them better than any other sight on this earth. Her mind was reeling, unable to comprehend the sight in front of her. Beside her, she could hear Marian talking, but her ears were muffled somehow. _I must be going insane. _She could not be here...it was impossible...it must be a ghost or phantom. But those eyes were so vivid, so full of life. Looking into them, Kioka's heart thumped painfully in her chest, silence weighing down the air between them. The ghost of Safiya stared back at her, shock and disbelief reflected in her own expression. Then she moved forward, and Kioka moved forward too in a daze, clasping their hands so tightly it hurt. And Kioka knew that she wasn't dreaming, that this was true, because she could feel the smooth skin, thick hair, solid figure of her best friend. _A miracle, to bring the dead back to life._Now tears poured from her own eyes as she wrapped her arms around Safiya, unable to let go, scared that if she let go she would disappear like a mirage. Safiya was alive, here in Sherwood Forest. The impossible had been brought into reality, like colour banishing the greys of the last two years. She was here. They were together. And as they held each other, filled with an indescribable flow of jubilation, relief and awe, dawn broke over Sherwood Forest.


	14. Staying Strong

**Thanks so much for all the reviews - you people are amazing! I worked hard trying to make this chapter realistic, so please tell me if it is; trust me, it wasn't easy. The first part is...well, some may say it's sad. It just seemed to fit in. Anyway, next chapter needs 6 reviews (gasp although I'm sure you'll more than fill that quota). Review Responses:**

**Kates Master's Sister Thank you! I did try - it's hard to not make it sound too melodramatic. I hope you like this one!**

**Hooty-McBoon Thank you! You're right, explanations are in order, and this chapter should fill that (i hope). I update as fast as I can!**

**Pig-The-Prophetess Ooh poor you :( Have you seen it yet? It was good, with some very important plot developments. You're lucky - there are three girls I know in my class who watch it, and none of them could be bothered to tape it. I struggle with plots because I hate writing them down; somehow I write better if I don't know the ending! I have 'ideas' for oneshots, which I will (eventually) write up. As you've probably noticed, I haven't exactly followed the line of the other stories (really, purely by accident - it just seemed to fit in better). I think that for a girl of that time, cutting off one's hair would be drastic - I'd rather have her be pulled along by fate; it's much more interesting. The fight scenes _were _fun to write, but most of it is probably incorrect (I don't do much swordfighting, you see :P) Gisborne and Vaysey won't find out about Kioka for a while, as she's quite secretive and doesn't want to have her face on a wanted poster all over Nottingham. Having Marian and Kioka in the forest will be lots of fun, starting from maybe the next chapter. Enjoy!**

**emilyanne-xo Aww thank you! As mean as this will sound, I'm so glad you were in tears - at least I know it was effective! WillKioka will begin next chapter, and I have very fun ideas along that line...**

**Casperace13 Thank you!**

**xXxSour-LemonxXx I know - even I was happy when they were reunited! That was a bit of fun I put in, just to ease things up :P Thanks!**

**Mage Ren Well I'm glad you feel so strongly. If it is a sign of insanity, I'm insane too :P I think that Will's been sort of 'in Allan's shadow' as it were, and that's why he's slowly giving up on Djaq - after all, he's seen Allan'****s way with women many times... WillKioka is going to be great fun, I hope! Thank you so much, I won't disappoint you!**

**jupitorsprings Thank you! I'm building up slowly, but things will get a lot more fun/serious now!**

**elmlea That was my greatest fear I think, to make her just a copy of Djaq. It's good to know I managed to avoid that! Eventually there will be amgst I promise you, particularly when Allan's treachery comes out... Thanks!**

**Fwoggeh Unfortunately this flashback is sad too, but I promise happier times in future! I think that certain things had to be changed (particularly Allan staying at camp) because that will push the storyline along, and make the pairings more interesting. I know - he may be a bit of a prat, but you can't help liking him:) Thanks!**

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_Safiya shivered, wrapping her lean arms around her knees, curling herself as tightly as possible. The seventeen year old sat on the cold, rough, dirty floor of the slaver's wagon. She was surrounded by other, older men and women, all sharing identical looks of exhaustion and pain. They had all been given clothes to wear: thin, itchy garments that scraped the skin and made every inch of her body sore and tender. Her thick, curling locks had been cropped so close to her scalp that it was impossible to tell that she was a girl – she was the living image of her brother. Although she would never admit it, she had cried when she had first seen herself, silent tears streaming down her face as she lay in the dank wagon. When they dried and her inner pain subsided to a hard knot in her stomach she made a promise never to cry over something as trivial as hair. It would grow one day and she would waste no more tears on it when there was so much more to grieve for. She steeled herself and stayed strong, locking her tears away in her heart because that was the only thing that kept her going. Sitting on the cold, hard, filthy floor she buried her face in her arms, pressing her back against the walls like she could make herself sink into them. The icy wind whipped through the cracks in the boards, freezing her to the bone. They were barely fed, and her body was stiff and skinny, constantly tired because sleep in the unsteady, shuddering wagon was virtually impossible. But Safiya did not give up. She would not give up._

_She didn't know where she was going or what her future was. Maybe she would die before she reached their destination. Maybe she wouldn't. Coarse ropes were tied around her wrists and ankles, chafing the skin and leaving sore red welts. In the first week or so she had tugged and twisted at her bonds until the skin bled with the constant friction. Now, a month on, she knew the futility and didn't even bother. Kioka would've thought of something clever, but she was far away. Safiya wondered if they thought she was dead. She wished more desperately than anything for her father, her best friend, her brother, the ones who were like surrogate parents to her. She didn't pray though, because she didn't believe Allah would answer._

_Her name was Djaq. Her brother's name, her brave and wonderful brother who had died in the effort to protect his country. She had chosen it almost automatically, the first male name that came to mind. __Somehow it seemed right to step into her brother's name and spirit, taking on his life. It felt to right to live for him, even though life wasn't exactly going well. She had hope though, that she would free herself when they reached wherever they were going. She had too, for the rest of her fellow slaves, for herself and for Djaq. Except now that was her. It confused her to think about it, so she closed her eyes, forcing her head further into her arms. Strength, resolve, courage in adversity – those which had seemed so easy once were all she had now, it was far more difficult to hold onto them than she had ever expected._

_Safiya became Djaq. Noblewoman became slave. Warrior became servant. Proud sister and daughter became orphan, all alone. 'How the mighty has fallen,' she thought with an ironic smile. One day, when she was free, she would take her revenge on every person who stole her life from her. Strange that after all these years of wanting to be boy, now she was one it didn't seem half as easy. Kioka would've never let them cut her hair – she prized her hair as Safiya had never done until she lost it. She wondered what Kioka was doing. In a year, she would be married to a fat old prince and pregnant with the first of many children. Would she be happy? In a way, her future was even bleaker than Safiya's – although Safiya's was unknown, Kioka could not escape her fate. Safiya's future had windows that would either open or close; Kioka's was one long walk along a dark corridor, monotonous and dull, full of court formalities and wailing children. She would not be happy, unless __she did manage to escape. But Safiya doubted it. The dreams of warrior maidens and spy mistresses had seemed so attainable when they were together but apart they were mere shadows of the life that would never be. __Beside her, a woman stirred weakly and the movement caught Safiya's attention._

_"What's your name, young one?" The woman __asked,__ her dark eyes dull, hair lank and body listless. _

_"Djaq," Safiya heard herself answer. That was her now, not a warrior noblewoman but a boy slave. The woman appraised her slowly._

_"You are a boy?" She asked, curiosity sliding into her lifeless voice. "Yet your features seem that of a woman..." Safiya hesitated. It was either the truth or the lie that was now the truth as well. One choice, seemingly easy but really another struggling __step__ down the long road that was her future. __Past or present.__Now or then._

_"I am now," she whispered and that was as close as she could get. After all, it was the truth._

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A warm wind rustled the few remaining leaves of the trees, sweeping over the cold English earth from distant deserts across vast seas. The sky was a blank expanse of palest blue, the east glowing with amber clouds as the dawn broke. With it came the weak sun, losing its heat to the chill winter air, illuminating the skeletons of trees, stripped bare of their leaves. Even the evergreens were marginally smaller, seemingly losing their robust aura as their branches shook and green firs fell to the ground. Dark earth was covered in a soft carpet of fiery reds and glowing golds, warm browns and bright yellows. Deep in the heart of Sherwood Forest, in a tiny clearing surrounding a small hill, these leaves fluttered and danced through the air, autumn flowers in the chill breeze. They brushed against the boots and soft cloth trousers of two girls like whispers on the wind. The whole forest seemed to curve around them, two Saracens far from home; seeking solace in what they thought was lost. Clinging to each other so tight they were almost one, they could've been sisters – the same thick jet black hair, large dark eyes, warm brown skin and proud posture. For them the world had stopped moving when they caught sight of each other, the low whistle of the wind the only sound as it dried their tears and ruffled their ebony locks. Everyone else had tactfully retreated into the warmth of a hidden cave to allow them some privacy. At long last they pulled apart, still holding hands as though afraid to let go. Both girls appraised each other, noting the changes as though to make up for those lost years. Eventually, Kioka sighed.

"Why did you cut your hair?" She asked slightly mournfully, slightly enviously. Reaching out, her elegant fingers toyed with Djaq's short, thick locks that would one day grow out into the curls of her childhood.

"It wasn't my choice but...I like it," Djaq answered her. A certain amount of relief filled at telling the truth, at being able to finally share her story with one who would not judge her or rebuke her for the actions she chose to take. "I thought it was forced upon me, but then I realised that it was a blessing. It helped me become who I am." Kioka nodded, unreadable dark eyes flicking over her lost friend's appearance.

"You have changed," she observed slightly wryly, referring not just to her outwards appearance. Djaq smiled.

"Walk with me?" She suggested, and they linked arms almost without second thought, just as they had done every day of their lives together. The trees towered over them as they slowly drifted through the forest, their bond both fragile and strong, more than just joined arms and walking in step with each other. "I am not the only one who has changed, Kioka Fonfala."

"You're right," Kioka concurred thoughtfully, head tilted as she pondered on her own changed. Her hair had fallen loose, dark curls tumbling over her shoulders with an untameable type of grace. "Most people would." There was silence for a little while longer – not awkward but accepting, as the two girls adjusted to each other's presence. Eventually, looking up at the thin branches above them, Kioka sighed idly. "So, you're an outlaw now, Safi?"

"It feels strange for you to call me that," Djaq admitted. Kioka frowned in confusion, before her expression cleared as she realised the truth.

"Of course. Djaq the Saracen, wonderful healer and brilliant swordsman. I should've known it was you, but I guess I didn't want to get my hopes up. Why change your name?"

"I was supposed to be a boy. The slavers felt they would get more for me that way, than if I was a girl. I suppose it was because to them I was more boy than girl. Changing my name was difficult. It was to honour my brother."

"You were lucky, I suppose to escape a worse fate as a girl. Your brother would be proud." They had reached a miniature cliff, which at first glance appeared to be a wall of sheer rock. A closer glance revealed a hidden shelf, almost blocked by a sheet of stone. It was to this that Djaq approached, climbing the rock as easily as if she was walking. Kioka followed her lead, sliding her slim hips through the gap until both girls sat on the ledge, facing each other. The small 'room' was warm and dry, most of the chill winds blocked by the wall. "How did you find this place?" Kioka asked in wonder, eyes flicking over the shelf on which they sat.

"It was sheer luck really," Djaq admitted. "I just noticed it one day, when we were coming back from Nottingham. I looked up and saw it, so I investigated. I come here occasionally, if I need to think."

"How observant," Kioka commented. "I can't seem to recall you being very observant when we were younger. You were always walking into things." Djaq shoved her in mock anger.

"No I wasn't!" She exclaimed. "You were always pushing me into things!"

"Maybe," Kioka concurred. "That does sound like me, I suppose." There was a lull in the conversation as relief, exhaustion, disbelief and pure happiness set in. The desperation of earlier was gone, replaced by a slower but surer delight. Djaq hesitated, unsure of how to best express herself. _Tell the truth. _

"Tell me of home, Kioka. I've missed you so much," Djaq pleaded. The words were true, despite how little she had shown them up until that moment. Kioka raised an eyebrow and then sighed, a deep breath weighted with grief and strife.

"You were sorely missed too," she told Djaq quietly. The air suddenly seemed stifling, tension choking Djaq's throat like a gag. "We lost many. It broke my mother's heart to lose you, especially after Djaq. Your father as well – we lost a family as dear to us as our own in a matter of months. Situations only worsened when you were gone. Rikash was killed in battle in the same manner as Djaq." Kioka swallowed, suddenly finding it difficult to talk. She had told so many stories of her invented past, lies rolling off her tongue like syrup, but now that it came to the truth, she stuttered awkwardly through the words which seemed alien to her. She told Djaq of the funeral for her family and Rikash, of the deaths of others who had seemed untouchable, of the decision her father had made. With painful clarity she recalled her farewell, the long and monotonous passage to England, her life as a maid to spoilt sisters who presumed their station was higher than hers. She struggled to recount the long nights, the hard labour, the poor and the hungry she had watched starve or freeze, denied aid by their lord and lady. Gathering her strength, she told of her time in Nottingham, caring for Sir Edward, avoiding Roseanna and befriending Lady Marian. Finally she retold the story of their coming to the forest and there her story wound up to a halt. For a moment, both girls sat in silence, weeping in the dark for their lost ones and the hardships of themselves and others. Then it was Djaq's turn.

Djaq's voice was strong, though quiet as though she saved her strength. She told of her last battle, of her first bloodshed and finally – voice slightly choked – the death of her father. Unwillingly, she recounted the passage to England; a cold, hard journey with her newly cropped hair chilling her scalp as the bitter winds of Europe cut through to her bones. With slight pride, she recounted the tale of how she met Robin and came to be in his band, befriending her fellow outlaws and saving the poor from injustice. She had so many stories; adventures to share, funny jokes, a whole different life than the one they had lived together. A day was not long enough, would never be long enough to reclaim the two years they had lost, but as Djaq went on and the sun rose higher into the sky it seemed as if all was well again. The still surroundings seemed to offer all the time in the world, and Djaq's voice never tired as she expressed herself in the simple, honest manner that was her way. There were no elaborations; she told the truth as she had seen it and nothing more. Eventually, around midday, she drew to a close. Kioka grinned. Djaq's stories had brought a new dimension to England – not a country of cruelty or despair but of hope and courage.

"You can spin a story as well as my mother," she commented and Djaq laughed. "But I know you too well, Safiya Obemaek. You haven't told them anything, have you?"

"I couldn't," Djaq admitted. "It was too difficult to face then, and now...explaining would only confuse and hurt them because of that lie. And it would separate me from them. You didn't tell anyone either."

"I didn't," Kioka confirmed, twining a lock of hair around her finger idly. It was her habit, as Djaq well knew. "The daughter of the enemy's spymaster unprotected in their lands? I would've used it to my advantage, and if anyone in this country has any sense they would too." Djaq leant forward.

"I prefer being Djaq," she confided. "It feels like...I've found my place." Kioka blinked, no other sign of surprise showing on her face. She didn't know what to say. Her mind buzzed with indecision and uncertainty, along with her natural impatience which flicked through thoughts like seconds, faster than she could process. All the time she had been in England, she had thought about what she would do, say, feel if she saw Safiya again. The reality had been close, up to now. Now was about the present and future, and she didn't know if Djaq and Safiya were the same? _Of course not.__ Don't be silly. She's still Safiya, just with a different name. _But the girl she knew was Safiya, a young and spirited close friend who dreamt of more, not Djaq the brave outlaw. She had achieved her dreams and Kioka didn't want to get left behind.

"Is that so?" She finally asked. Djaq nodded. "You've done what you always wanted."

"Well, I never imagined it would play out like this."

"I don't think anyone did," Kioka murmured. She gazed at Djaq thoughtfully. "What now then, now that you're living your dreams?"

"Keep going. Keep fighting for justice. I haven't completed my mission yet, what I set out to do. Bring King Richard back, save the people, stop the Sheriff and free England. I'll do that and then I don't know," Djaq sighed. She honestly didn't. Even as Safiya she had pretty much lived in the present, focusing on the task at hand more than the distant future. When the time came, when she had no other choice, then she would make her choice.

"And what of me?" Kioka asked. She did not try to conceal her feelings – if she couldn't trust Safiya, then all was lost. "What happens to me in your new life?"

"Up until a few hours ago, I believed you were lost. I couldn't see a way of getting back to our home, and even if I did manage the journey you would probably be married off to Prince Hakeem with five children. It seemed impossible." Kioka snorted at the idea of her being married off with five children.

"Safi, you know me better. Married life was never for me, especially not to Prince Hakeem."

"I know, I know. Still, do you understand what I mean?"

"You shouldn't have to ask," Kioka pointed out lazily. "I understand everything my dear – after all, how long have I known you for?" Djaq laughed. "Still, answer this for me: where do I fit into your life now?"

"The same place you always have been," Djaq answered. "Watching my back." And Kioka knew she meant it and that was good enough.

"Until the end," she promised, just like she had done a thousand times when they were young. "After all this time we can still be heroes, _Djaq_."


	15. First Step Forward

**Fifteenth chapter up! I'm rather proud of this one - I took advice from some reviewers and this is my longest chapter yet. I hope that'll please you, but if you don't like it tell me. The flashback is slightly random; just a little drabble to show the sorts of characters from which Safiya and Kioka got their inspiration as children. The first half is from the Helen of Troy legend, the second half was made up myself. The part with Roseanna was fun, as I haven't written her in a while. Anyway, I'd really love five reviews for the next chapter if you please!! Enjoy the chapter and review please, it really does make me write faster.**

**Review responses:**

**Reader4ever Thank you! I hope you like the way I did them, staying in character is harder than I thought.**

**Kates Master's Sister I know, I was thinking about doing that. I probably should've :S but believe it or not I didn't want to make it too long. I won't e doing that again, I promise. Thanks for reviewing!**

**Fwoggeh I granted your wish!! Longer chapters from now on, honest - that's my goal. I'm glad you liked it - I tried to make this chapter a bit more upbeat because no one likes constant sadness. The last chapters have been rather downcast but from now on things will be looking up (I hope). tHANKS!**

**Pig-The-Prophetess I know, I don't know how I'd live without it :P That was rather good - I had 'euphemism' in my head all week. I think that Djaq wouldn't think of it as weakness, or take her anger out at herself on that because she feels weak for losing the life she once had. Does that make sense? I'm not really sure I understand but I hope you get the idea! I always thought that even though it was a sad event, going to England was really a good thing for Safiya and Kioka because otherwise, after all the training and practicing they went through as children if they hadn't left they would've just got married and have been forced to live a normal life. On my 'timeline' they haven't seen each other for two/three years, which is a long time, especially when you're young. But if that happened, you wouldn't know where to begin to explain your life over the past three years. Being heroines didn't turn out like they hoped but seeing each other in a way brings back their childhood dreams. Lovely long chapter for you now - enjoy!**

**xXxSour-LemonxXx Thank you! It was really hard to get right, so I'm glad you like it!**

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_In Safiya's home there was a long corridor which stretched down to her father's greenhouse. The greenhouse itself was a marvellous creation – a huge room fashioned entirely out of green glass, filled with all kinds of exotic plants. If anyone looked out of the walls they would see the world painted green and blurred, an emerald earth. The inside of the greenhouse was humid, the glass wet with the condensation of the steam that filled the room. The tallest plants reached the roof, vivid green leaves stretching to the glass panels above. The only part of the room that was not glass was the back wall where it joined the house, a solid wall of brick and a dark wooden door. Out of the door was the corridor, cool and dark, lit only by a few lanterns. A long tapestry covered the entire length of one wall and it was this tapestry that had caught the two girls' curiosity. It was a beautiful tapestry; the colours of the thread were rich and bold, dancing in the lantern light like painted patterns. The detail was intricate, delicate designs stitched on dedicatedly. The start of the tapestry was lovely and summery: a beautiful girl, soaring birds and flowers surrounding the border. As it went on however, it steadily grew more morbid. Soldiers and knights appeared, seeming to swear an oath. In the final few inches the beautiful girl was seen at the head of a huge army, storming forward gravely as the flowers bordering the tapestry turned blood red. Nearly every time either girl went to the greenhouse they stopped to stare at the tapestry curiously. Although they asked, no one could tell them where it came from. When Kioka asked her father he shrugged, saying it was merely a decoration. Djaq told Safiya it had been there since he was born and to stop bothering him about it. Amir simply answered 'it was your mother's', and that really piqued Safiya's curiosity. Eventually eight-year-old Kioka managed to drag her mother up to take a look and Tahirah took one glance before she recognised it._

_"Of course I know what it is," she answered and Kioka clapped her hands in glee. "I gave it to your mother, Safiya."_

_"Really?"__ Both girls gasped, wide-eyed. _

_"Why did you give it to my mother?" Safiya asked her, desperate for information._

_"And what is it about?" Kioka put in. Tahirah smiled and turned to Safiya first._

_"Your mother loved that story even when we were little girls," she told them. "It's called the __'__Nightshade Army__'__, although in some places it is known as the __'__Nightshade Oath__'__ or __'__The Curse of the Nigh__t__shade __Beauty'. My mother told us it when we were twelve and Amani fell in love with the story. She liked tales of doomed love and tragedy, you know. So when I saw it in a shop once, far away in another city, I bought it as a present for her."_

_"But what's it about?" Kioka asked impatiently. Tahirah just laughed._

_"Do you really want to know?" She teased._

_"Yes!" Both girls cried._

_"Alright," Tahirah agreed. Abandoning her ladylike stance, she dropped to a cross-legged position on the floor like she had when she was younger and she and Amani had retold the story countless times. Safiya and Kioka followed her lead. "A long time ago in this city was a family who went by the name Nightshade. Like the flower or plant, your father would know. They were very rich and well known and held a high position in court. However, this family had only one daughter. She __was the most famed noblewoman in the land because she was told to outshine the sun with her beauty.__ It was said that her eyes glittered more than the most precious jewel, that her skin glowed and was as smooth as honey and that her hair was as silky and curled as the waves of the sea. Her beauty was incomparable and men flocked from all over the world to win her hand in marriage, for she was the most beautiful woman on the earth. Her father knew this and wanted to be sure __she had a good husband, one that was worthy of her beauty and the dowry she would bring.__ He also wanted to make sure that when she married, her husband would be not be attacked by a jealous rival who would kidnap his daughter. However, as time went on he could make no decision. The suitors turned to duelling to prove themselves, and they were killed for their love. Unable to make a choice that would guarantee his daughter's safety, he let this continue until one day the Sultan joined in the battle for his daughter's hand.__"_

_"__So Lord Nightshade did an extraordinary thing to stop the deaths of so many young princes and warriors.__ He brought his finest stallion and slit its throat, and made each and every suitor stand in its blood one by one. There they swore the strongest oath possible – loyalty to his daughter and __to whoever her husband was. An oath in the blood of a horse is unbreakable, for horses are far more sacred than cows or bulls, the normal sacrifices. And yet, knowing this, every man swore his loyalty in the hope of claiming the most beautiful woman on earth as his bride. The girl watched the proceedings and it was the first time they had laid eyes on her, and it is said that even the most hardened of warriors wept for love of her beauty. However, Lord Nightshade chose the Sultan for her husband and the girl became his queen. __For a long time both were happy and the people rejoiced at such a queen, so radiant and beautiful.__ But __their joy was cut short by war."_

_"__The borders of the country were invaded by wild men from the north, fearless and savage. They killed the villagers of the mountains and burned their villages to the ground. When the Sultan received news of this, he prepared his army and set off to defeat the invaders. The beautiful girl watched him go sadly, and the entire palace was saddened to see her beauty marred by mourning for her husband and her slain people. The news came back soon, far too soon – the Sultan had been killed in battle; all was lost. Chaos erupted as people feared for their lives and wept for the lives of their children. The queen, high up in her lonely palace, was filled with remorse. She cursed her beauty, for in her time of need it would not serve her, and she filled her rooms with rage and fury. She was a brave and intelligent woman and desperately wanted to help her people. __When she finally came across a way out of this destruction, she knew she had to take it.__"_

_"__She called upon the Nightshade Oath, summoning her one-time suitors from all four corners of the earth to fight for her cause. They came in masses, each bringing an army to battle for the woman whose beauty still infatuated them even then. It was the greatest gathering the earth has ever seen, men pouring from all over the world to unite under one banner. It was the Nightshade banner, the banner of her father and the name that she was known for. As the invaders approached the city, her forces gathered together and prepared for the final stand. The beautiful queen led them, astride a white stallion as a reminder of the oath they swore to her. As dawn broke over her army and the invaders stormed over the horizon, she mounted her horse and turned to face her warriors. Standing in the stirrups so that every man could see her, she had no need to speak. One look at her face, at her beauty made stronger by determination and courage, and they were hers. As the invaders approached, the queen let out one cry to all her men and they echoed it, charging towards their opponents like a tidal wave. The invaders fought bravely but her forces were the greatest the __world had ever seen and they stood no chance. The count__ry was saved by her beauty, but__ she gave her life in doing so – stabbed in the heart by an enemy. __She was cremated on the largest pyre ever as the world watched, and her ashes were scattered to the wind. The beautiful queen was no more." Tahirah smiled gently as there was a long silence. Safiya __blinked,__ her mouth wide open in awe as Kioka frowned slightly with concentration._

_"That's amazing," Safiya whispered at last, eyes wide. "I want to be like _her _when I grow up."_

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Roseanna woke earlier than usual that morning. That in itself was unusual, because Roseanna never woke earlier or later than the time she was accustomed to. Normally Marian was awake long before her, out riding her horse or something equally pointless in Roseanna's mind. After all, one's skin always looked better after more sleep, as her mother had pointed out to all of her sisters. It certainly worked, Roseanna reminded herself every day smugly as she ran her fingers over her smooth cheeks and forehead. That morning however, it was dawn when she was awoken by the bright sun streaming through the open blinds. At first she tried to ignore it – it was probably Marian getting dressed. Surely she would shut the curtains once she was done. However, as time went on and the light got more and more unbearable, Roseanna slowly opened one blue eye irritably. No Marian. The nasty woman had probably left the curtains open out of spite. With an exasperated sigh Roseanna looked towards the door, which was slightly open.

"Maid, come here and close the blinds," she ordered loudly. She could never remember the Saracen girl's name; what was the point? She was just a servant, although Marian seemed to find it necessary to learn the names of each and every commoner she met. It was ridiculous really. They were nobility – they could hardly be expected to find the time to talk to poor people. There were far more important things to do. Like sleeping for example, which she would be doing if that silly girl would hurry up and close the blinds. "Get a move on girl!" There was no answer and Roseanna frowned. Where was she? For a long moment, she struggled with indecision – should she get up or not? Then, as the light continued to shine into her eyes, she got out of bed furiously. Grabbing a curtain in each hand, she pulled them together so hard she almost ripped them from the frames. Storming next door with a good mind to slap the Saracen girl, for a moment she didn't know what she was seeing. There was no one there. _Oh don't tell me Marian's borrowed the maid again, _was her first thought, but deep in her mind she knew there was more to it. The bed was gone, sheets and all. Everything that the maid owned was gone. Roseanna stood in shock for a moment, staring at the spot where the Saracen usually slept. Then, gathering her composure, she returned to her own room and sat on the bed.

The maid was gone. Obviously run away, as none of her belongings had been left to hint she would return. Getting up, Roseanna crossed to the wardrobe. Marian's few dresses were gone too, apart from one – the one Roseanna had made her buy. That made the girl smile; obviously Marian had left it as a final gesture of defiance. Roseanna was no fool and she put the facts together with only a little trouble. Marian was gone, presumably off to fight for justice and all the nonsense she usually spouted. It was likely she'd joined with Robin Hood, as apparently they'd once been engaged. That didn't bother Roseanna – she didn't like her cousin and couldn't care less whether she became an outlaw or not. What did bother her was the fact Marian had taken the maid. She may have been a simple servant, but at least she'd known how Roseanna liked her hair to be done. Now she'd have to train someone new and of, most likely, a lesser standard. That _was _frustrating – off Marian went, thinking only of herself again. Now Roseanna might even have to do her hair herself this morning.

She tapped her chin with one long, elegant finger while deliberating on what to do. Vaysey would need to be alerted obviously, but she couldn't go out looking like this. And yet she had no maid to prepare her. Honestly, it was just going in a circle. She didn't want to go out looking like she had just got out of bed – which she had, but it was never a good thing – but on the other hand she wanted to be the one to tell Vaysey of Marian's outrageous behaviour. Sighing, she decided what to do. After all, it was early – hopefully not that many people would see her if she messed up. She quickly put on a light green dress and green velvet boots, then realised she would have to do her hair herself. Naturally her hair looked lovely down, in beautiful loose ringlets, but Roseanna had always thought that having one's hair loose (like Marian usually did) simply looked as though you couldn't be bothered. Or you were one of those gypsies, which would be dreadfully embarrassing. However, the problem was that she had never done her own hair in her life. Gazing into the mirror despondently, she realised she had no idea what to do. It would have to stay down then. After all, maybe no one was awake yet.

She slipped out into the corridor. It was empty. Deciding the easiest way to not be noticed was to hurry to Vaysey's quarters immediately, Roseanna half ran down the corridor. She didn't actually run of course – noblewomen did not run – but she certainly moved quickly. Eventually she reached his private rooms and hammered on the door. As a noblewoman she was allowed anywhere she wanted in the castle as long as someone knew where she was. After all, Robin Hood and his men seemed to be in the castle half the time and it would be dreadful for her to be killed by a bunch of outlaws. Roseanna planned on dying peacefully and she always got her way.

"Who is it?" Vaysey's voice drifted from the other side of the door. Roseanna rolled her eyes, desperate to deliver her news.

"Lady Roseanna," she replied, one hand on her hip. "Open the door please, I have rather interesting news." After a moment of chairs being moved back, the door was opened by Guy looking slightly confused. Obviously he wasn't used to her being awake at this hour. Well to be fair, she wasn't either. From the looks of things, he and the Sheriff had been busy discussing plans. Roseanna assumed it was their plot to kill the King. Naturally she knew all about it and the Woodsen estate fully supported their endeavours, as well as the soon-to-be-King John. She didn't hesitate, walking right in and up to their table, Guy following from the door.

"Marian is gone," she told them with relish, slamming her palms on the table firmly. She didn't like to waste time, especially with news as exciting as this. The two men blinked, looking utterly confused. Vaysey was the first to speak.

"What do you mean by 'gone'?" He asked her.

"I mean 'gone' as in 'gone for good'. She's left. Run away by the looks of things." There was a long moment of silence as both men took this in. The Sheriff didn't look particularly bothered by it, simply shrugging. Guy on the other hand frowned deeply; obviously think about his one-time 'love'. Roseanna resisted an urge to roll her eyes. She always found it annoying when she had men trained only for them to be upset by a former lover. She thought he'd got over Marian by now, particularly as he had her to keep him company.

"She didn't happen to leave a long farewell letter, did she?" The Sheriff muttered. He had obviously noticed Guy's expression, for he added nastily: "I suppose not. It's not like she was leaving anyone she cared about." Guy's frown deepened.

"I presume she's gone off to fight for justice and poverty and all those things she was constantly mentioning," Roseanna commented, folding her arms. "Probably joined Robin Hood I should think, her former fiancé." She laid particular emphasis on the 'fiancé', noting Guy's expression darken as she did so. It made her laugh inwardly, that men were so easily upset.

"Well, we all knew that would happen," Vaysey remarked. "It was high time she did what she'd been threatening too. I never knew she had the guts to pull a little stunt like this."

"She stole my maid," Roseanna frowned. That was the part that truly annoyed her. Guy continued to stare at the wall morbidly. "I need a new one now."

"We'll get you one," Vaysey replied lightly. "In the mean time, why don't we share the news with the wonderful people of Nottingham? Let's let everyone know that dear Lady Marian is now officially an outlaw."

"What if she's not?" Guy retorted abruptly. "What if she's gone to a convent or something?" Privately, Roseanna thought that that was a bit far fetched. Evidently Vaysey thought so too, for he strolled over to Guy and bent forward to whisper in his ear.

"And the likelihood of that?" He questioned. Guy closed his eyes. Fighting the truth, Roseanna thought cattily, watching the two through half-closed eyes. "She's gone and something tells me she's not coming back. She might as well be an outlaw – I never liked her anyway."

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Marian didn't have to ask Will to close the doors of the cave, leaving Djaq and Kioka outside, locked in each other's embrace. He was already there, sensing that this was not a time for them to watch, as she herded the others into the cave. They didn't resist, even though the scene before them was enough to pique anyone's curiosity. Marian herself had questions: how did they know each other? How had they been separated? What was their real story? But she knew that this was no time for interrogations, because she had seen the look on Kioka's face. The normally smiling, fearless, confidant maid had had tears in her eyes, and even though Marian did not know her past she knew that it would take something incredibly important to make her cry. Even Robin and his friends sensed the seriousness of the situation and knew to let them have their privacy. So she gestured for them to get inside and give the girls some time alone. As the doors closed behind her, her shoulders sank with relief. A sense of safety overwhelmed her – there was no more running, no more being on edge. She was here and all was alright. Up until that point she had been running on adrenalin but now she had reached her goal exhaustion set in. She had never felt more tired, but never more at home. Robin, seeing this, guided her to a seat and she took it, feeling their eyes upon her.

"I suppose you want an explanation," she remarked at last and the obviousness of that statement made her laugh out loud. That confused them completely – evidently they hadn't quite reached the stage where they began forming words. It was Allan who first spoke.

"I'm not being funny, but who was that?" He asked, frowning. "And why are you here? Why did you have to jump on me like that? Have you got news or something?" Marian hesitated, not sure where to begin. She decided to answer his questions in order, to make it easier.

"For a start, that girl out there is called Kioka," she began. "She was Roseanna's maid, except she somehow figured out my connections with you and wanted to come with me. She's been a great help and she's rather unusual." She hesitated again, unsure of how exactly to explain Kioka's various abilities. Will made it simpler.

"I know her," he stated and everyone turned to stare at him.

"Since when?" Allan asked incredulously. Will shrugged.

"I met her at Roseanna's ball," he told them. "She was upstairs."

"Well then you have an idea of what she's like," Marian sighed. "It's rather hard to explain, unless you meet her. Which you will later, so I'll leave it until then." Allan looked like he wanted to say something else but Robin stopped him.

"Never mind that," he interrupted impatiently. "What are you doing here at this time?"

"Well," Marian began. Then she paused, unsure of how to fully express the night's events. "That's rather hard to explain as well. Basically...I was wondering if I could stay. Here with you, I mean. Permanently." That drew looks of surprise like nothing else. Much practically fell off his seat and even Robin looked completely taken aback. "Yes, I know it's unexpected, but I thought about it and I think I'm ready. To be one of you." Deciding that needed further explanation, she went one. "You see, before my father died I stayed at the castle for him. But when he passed away...I realised what really kept me there was that I was scared to leave everything I knew. But I've changed. I'm ready for this, I promise." She drew to a close, holding her breath. What if they said no? She couldn't go back now. Robin exchanged a long look with Much. Eventually, he looked her straight in the eyes and asked one thing:

"Are you sure?" The sentence cast her whole decision into doubt. Was she sure? What if she was wrong? Then she remembered Kioka's words, the trapped feeling at her father's funeral and strength like fire flooded her veins.

"Of course I am," she replied and meant it. Something in her tone made Robin stop and look, really look at her. After a moment he nodded.

"Then you're in," he agreed and Much smiled in relief. Allan and Will grinned and even John gave a smile. "But we still need to talk."

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Later on, Will stood by the door of the cave looking out into the late afternoon. It was already getting dark, the last streams of sunlight shining through the trees weakly. It didn't seem like a day had passed but it had. Marian was here in the forest - well, to be more precise she was taking a walk somewhere in the forest with Robin. With a slight grin, Will wondered if walking was all they were really doing. That was an Allan thing to think of course, and no doubt it had occurred to the young man who sat somewhere in the cave, probably right by the fire. He wasn't talking, which was unusual, but Will supposed everyone needed their quiet. Like Djaq and her friend, wherever they were. Kioka. What were the odds that they would meet here, now? Or even less that they would know each other. How unlikely. Although now Will thought about it, Kioka was slightly similar to Djaq; she was just more confidant, more willing to play games of wit. He wondered if that was what Djaq looked like when her hair was long, but even with that as a guide he couldn't imagine her like that. It was too strange. Short hair suited her. He'd never known a woman with short hair before, because it was unheard of for a woman to look like a man. But Djaq didn't. She was still a woman, just an unusual one. There wasn't anything that wasn't feminine about Kioka, even though there was something about her that didn't quite fit into the 'typical woman' ideal. Maybe it was the constant backchat, the way she flaunted her intelligence while most maids hid it under a mask of docile servitude. It was a different type of woman, proud of what she was instead of ashamed to be born second-best. Someone punched him in the arm and he turned to see Allan behind him, grinning as usual. He should've known that Allan couldn't keep quiet for any length of time.

"Who do you think that girl was?" He asked, coming to stand beside Will.

"Her name's Kioka," Will answered. He knew what Allan really meant of course, but Allan preferred it if he got to go through his theories first.

"I know that," Allan replied. "I mean, what's she doing here? How does she know Djaq? Maybe they're sisters. They looked like sisters."

"You barely got a look at her and it was dark," Will pointed out in amusement. Allan's detective mode made him laugh with the wild ideas he thought up. "How could you tell?"

"I'm not being funny but I've got a talent for that kind of thing," Allan replied seriously and Will snorted. "Seriously! I bet they're sisters. Just you wait, Djaq's going to come back and announce that that's her long-lost sister."

"You've been listening to too many fairytales at the taverns," Will retorted. "What are the odds of them being sisters? And wouldn't Djaq have told us if she had a sister?" Allan paused for a moment then opened his mouth again.

"I'll be right, you'll see," he asserted confidently, ignoring Will's last comments. Will rolled his eyes.

"That'll be the day," he stated and turned to look out through the forest again. Maybe they would be back soon. Then maybe everything would be revealed, though from the little he knew of Kioka he doubted if it would be that simple.


	16. Introductions and Old Friends

**Sorry for the delay but Christmas has kept me pretty busy lately. I hope you all had good ones too, and it's New Year's Eve tomorrow! I couldn't believe the final episode of RH last night - someone _please _tell me that there'll be another series! I can't believe Marian's dead...it was so sad! And Will and Djaq...I really do love that pair, even if my writing doesn't show it. Anyway, here's chapter 16. Oh, for future reference, shatranj is an early form of chess. Please please please can I have five reviews before the next chapter?**

**Review Responses:**

**Pig-The-Prophetess - Well, it's hard to get reviews these days; I should know, I'm awful at reviewing! I love the fact that you write the review as you go along, it makes it so much more interesting. Indeed, I love description, just like you say, it is poetry and art, just like painting or embroidering. I always liked that myth, even though I had to make up my own ending. Helen of Troy's a great legend. Roseanna is so much fun to write, simply because she's so caught up in herself that she actually believes all the nonsense she comes out with. I didn't want to make her the typical airhead - a dangerous villainess is much more interesting. I know what you mean about Marian, but I think she still had feelings for Guy otherwise she would've stayed. But now she's dead - I was in tears, literally. Allan makes me laugh - part of this chapter is in his point of view, which surprised me as I'd planned it to be in Will's point of view! Your reviews and pieces of poetry themselves. I'll have to borrow some of your lovely language for myself, if you don't mind. Hapy New Year!**

**xXxSour-LemonxXx - Thank you! I know, Roseanna's brilliant to write. I really need to do more in her point of view. Don't worry, updates will be faster from now on.**

**elmlea - Ooh do tell me what you think will happen, I really want to know! AllanDjaq moments will be coming up soon, I promise on my life :)**

**Fwoggeh - I think it depends on which characters you try. There are certain people who I haven't even tried because I'd just make them OOC! Roseanna is so fun to write, simply because she believes every word she comes out with! Thanks for reviewing!**

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Fifteen-year-old __Safiya kicked off her too-tight shoes, dipping her feet into the shallow pool in her uncle's courtyard. They were red from the uncomfortable formal fashions of the palace. __She and Kioka__ had just returned from court when Safiya decided she wanted to pay a visit to her uncle. After the stuffy palace rooms where the air was full of foul perfume and the heat of hundreds of layers of stiff cotton, the light airy courtyard with its cool white walls and chilling water was a welcome relief. Safiya loved her uncle's house. He was a collector and had travelled all around the world, collecting all sorts of strange and exotic antiques and souvenirs. They filled the house; even in the courtyard a dark wooden Buddha stood by the door and a beautiful pot stood by a window, the red clay engraved with all sorts of shapes and pictures. Her uncle had called them hieroglyphics, from a country called Egypt. __Whatever they were, she loved them. They were a mystery to her and she had always liked mysteries. Aside from that the courtyard had no other furniture, only a plain bench and some luscious green plants. The entire effect was very calming, which was perfect after a day at court. Safiya closed her eyes. She hated court, loathed the rooms full of painted nobles with nothing better to do than gossip and flatter, as fake and false as the friendships they formed. She had never fitted in with them - just because she couldn't lie and feign pleasure at the appearance of someone she hated, give out compliments like candy and capture the attention of everyone around her. Kioka could do all of that naturally; confidence,__ charm,__ being at ease with complete strangers came naturally to her just like lies and false flattery did. She was a social butterfly and although she did her best to include Safiya, she couldn't resist a chance to practice her social skills. That was her biggest problem – lying was second nature to her. Whereas Safiya never said anything unless she meant it, never promised someone something she couldn't give them, Kioka did the exact opposite. She flattered foolish noblemen and women, making each one feel as though they were her best and closest friends. To the men she was constantly flirting, promising kisses and undying love without having to say anything. They followed her of course – Kioka had an annoying talent for being impossible to disagree with. If she __turned on her charm, she could murder someone and get away with it. Safiya loved her but she wished she wouldn't use people like that._

_Getting to her feet, she set off to find her uncle barefoot. He wouldn't mind that she left wet footprints on the cool tiles – he'd always been slightly eccentric and let her do pretty much what she wanted. His name was Bakkar and he was her father's brother. Safiya also had an aunt, her father's sister __Edunata__, but she lived somewhere far away and they had never met. It was actually quite lucky she had met Bakkar – for the first six years of her life he had been off touring the world until her seventh birthday, __when he'd arrived unexpectedly along with a cage full of multicoloured butterflies, which he'd presented to the amazed young girl with a flourish. Since then he'd brought her something every birthday: a huge, sapphire blue kite which she could fly for hours; a lantern which glowed and could fly just like a kite but in the night; a storybook filled entirely with pictures. _

_"Uncle, where are you?" She called._

_"In here, Safi," she heard him answer. Safiya stepped into a room to her right and blinked in surprise. Her uncle stood there, barefoot with a book of poetry in one hand and a dead rat in the other. Beside him in a huge, ornate cage was a large bird with a sharp, gold beak and mottled white feathers. _

_"What is that?" She asked him, coming closer to get a better look at the cage._

_"This, my dear, is an Egyptian Vulture."_

_"An Egyptian Vulture?__ What__ do you want with it?"_

_"It's a fascinating bird," Bakkar exclaimed. "It was my wife's favourite animal, you know. She loved them but never got to see one in real life. __In Egypt they're known as the symbol of __Nekhbet__, the protection of pharaohs and royalty and so forth. __Very interesting.__ She'd have loved it, __Junai__ would__." Safiya watched in fascination as he tossed the rat into the cage where it was gobbled up by the bird._

_"I've never seen anything like it," she told him. "Did she like animals, Aunt __Junai__?" Her father had told her about her aunt, who died after giving birth to Safiya's eldest cousin, __Inayica_

_"Not really," Bakkar laughed. "Actually, she hated them apart from this fellow here. She adored Egypt, the entire culture of animals as gods. She believed in Allah of course, but she liked the idea of something real to worship. She never got to go to Egypt, poor woman."_

_"I'd like to go to Egypt," Safiya muttered thoughtfully. "It sounds very...exciting."_

_"Maybe when you're older I'll take you," Bakkar answered idly. "The world's a big place for one young girl all alone, you know." _

_"I can take care of myself," Safiya retorted proudly. Bakkar chuckled._

_"Of course you can, my dear. I never suggested you couldn't. But__ there's more out there than you think things you can't defeat with a sword. Amir would kill me if he thought I was exposing you to that sort of danger."_

_"I think I could handle it."_

_"You haven't experienced it yet."_

_"Well what exactly is 'it'?" Safiya asked in exasperation. Even at fifteen, she'd never come across an obstacle she couldn't defeat with her skills. _

_"Love, my dear," Bakkar answered and laughed at her expression. "Don't look at me like that. Just you wait until you find love, then you'll see what I mean."_

_"There isn't any danger of _that,_" Safiya told him. "Love doesn't matter when you're betrothed. I get married whether I'm in love with him or not."_

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Marian stared into Robin's eyes defiantly. Strange, how only he could bring out that childish stubbornness in her. It brought back memories of their childhood, when she'd have to use all of her willpower to be included in his games. Even then he liked to be in charge and most of the time she ended up playing the damsel in distress, a role that she absolutely detested by her seventh birthday. Now they stood in Sherwood Forest under completely different circumstances but she still felt the same old wave of irritation mixed with attraction.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" He asked her for the umpteenth time. She rolled her eyes.

"_Yes, _Robin, how many times do I have to say it?"

"Well, with your father's...passing away, you've got every right to be confused." He folded his arms just like when they were young and he didn't want her to play a game with him. Except back then it had been: _No Marian, you're just a little girl, you don't know how to play properly. _That had irritated her beyond everything and once she'd gotten so worked up she pushed him off the wall he was sitting on. He didn't deny her a role in his games for a long time after that.

"But I'm not!" Marian cried in exasperation. "This is what I want. What I need, if you like. After all the times you spent telling me to come and join you, I finally get here and you're telling me I'm mad!"

"I know, I know, it's just..." Robin frowned, searching for the words he wanted. "It's not as easy as it looks. You could get hurt. You'd lose everything – your reputation, your money, your lands and title."

"I don't care, Robin," she urged him, eyes wide. "I'd rather lose all of that and be with you than keep it and be alone in that castle." She blushed as soon as she said it, to her annoyance. She'd always been a terrible blusher, as hard as she tried to stop herself. Apparently it was a trait she'd inherited from her mother. Marian looked down, away from his eyes. He took one step closer.

"Is that why you've come?" Robin asked her softly. "Nothing to do with the poor or fighting for justice or any of that?"

"Well, obviously there's that too..." She was cut off by Robin sweeping her up and kissing her hard on the mouth. "Robin! Can't we have one serious discussion without you spoiling it?"

"Spoiling it?" He laughed and she couldn't stop laughing too. "Isn't that what you came for?" Marian shoved his arm.

"I see what you mean about losing my reputation," she scolded. "If that's the way you'll behave..."

"Why not come sooner?" He asked. "Why wait?" Marian bit her lip, unsure of how to phrase it.

"It wasn't the right time," she finally told him. "I wasn't ready to let go of that life yet."

"So what happened?"

"Well...you know that girl, Kioka?" He nodded. "It was a conversation with her. She called it being scared of change, and that's exactly what it was. It was like I could have everything I wanted but it all seemed so big and out of my depth. But I couldn't let myself think like that, and strangely enough you made up my mind. Seeing you at the funeral was like light in darkness, I suppose. Like if you were drowning and someone threw you a rope. It made me realise that I couldn't stay there anymore, living without anyone or anything. I needed hope and justice and something to work for. I needed...you." Robin didn't say anything at first. Then he stepped forward and the look in his eyes sent shivers up her spine. He kissed her and this time it was gentle, so gentle she almost fell over with the melting feeling in her stomach and legs. He was barely touching her, just one hand on her shoulder but her skin tingled all over. It felt good. It felt like _living, _truly living, a feeling that swept over her like waves and she kissed him with all the love that was in her. It only lasted for several moments but it felt like hours, just them two. Then they pulled apart. "Is that that then?" She asked, trying to catch her breath. He grinned.

"That's that."

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Unusually it was Allan who first noticed the two girls' return. Normally Allan didn't notice things like that because he was too caught up in himself but that night conversation was sparse. Suspense filled the air like a thick cloud, weighing down on everyone with tension. The door to the cave was open as they all sat around the fire, awaiting the appearance of Djaq and her mysterious friend. Marian's description hadn't been very satisfactory, leaving Allan to make up the rest of the story himself. He wished he could share his theories with the rest of the gang but he knew what the reaction would be – dismissive, as usual. No one took him seriously, although that was partly his fault. Maybe he should stop cracking jokes and funny stories all the time. That would just make everything rather morbid though; if he didn't lighten things up, no one else would and then everything would be constantly depressing. Allan hated all this seriousness – no talking, no fun and no point to it all. He wasn't really good with serious affairs though. He left that kind of thing to Will who had the whole 'no talking, just dark brooding stares into space' act to perfection. Will could pull off a dark brooding stare, whereas Allan just looked bored if he tried. Maybe that was because most of the times when a dark brooding stare was called for, he really was bored. Whereas Will always thought too much about things, Allan couldn't stay on a subject for more than five minutes. Unless the subject was something he really liked. Like drink, or money, or women. Or himself, he supposed. Or Djaq. Allan didn't talk much about Djaq because he knew that if he started he'd never be able to shut up. With a slight smile he thought, _after all, I do really like Djaq. _Talking about Djaq was always going to be a problem though, seeing as the people he spoke to most were Will and Djaq. He couldn't talk to Djaq about herself because that would involve saying all the things he never seemed to be able to say when she was there. As for Will, that boy _hated _talking about Djaq. Especially to Allan. If the topic ever came up, he'd immediately go into 'dark brooding stare' mood. Allan suspected it had to do with the fact that Will was privately 'in love' with Djaq. Will (and Allan had decided this was down to his lack of experience with women) thought love was all about the sort of romantic mush that came up in stories. Allan knew well enough that wasn't the truth. In fact, his greatest regret was that that was the wisest piece of advice he could give but if he actually said it, he'd be laughed at. Robin didn't help much – his little love affair with Marian was practically the stuff of fairy tales. Even now, after they'd come sauntering in after their walk in the forest, they were talking quietly like there was no one more interesting in the world. Sometimes, when Allan had a lot of thinking time (like now), he felt jealous of Robin. Love was so easy for him. Whereas Allan's love life wasn't exactly simple, what with complications like Will and whoever the girl outside was. He happened to glance outside at that moment and laughed inwardly. Finally, he got to make a grand announcement.

"They're back!" He yelled loudly, then regretted not phrasing it more elaborately a moment later. He should've made it more mysterious, savoured the moment. Damn his impatience. Next time the opportunity came, he'd make the most of it. As it was, everyone swivelled to get a look at the girl, whoever she was. She and Djaq had their arms linked as Djaq lead her up towards the hideout. All of a sudden Allan was suddenly struck by how beautiful Djaq's smile was. _Inappropriate! _He scolded himself, trying to shake the thought out of his head. _Pay attention, for goodness sake. _For some reason Djaq spoke the last thought, her voice echoing through his head and confusing him entirely. Will stared at him strangely and Allan blinked, returning his focus to the strange girl, determined not to look at Djaq.

"It appears we have an audience," the girl commented drily as she stared up into the eyes of everyone in the cave. Marian, Will, John and Much had the decency to look away, although Allan and Robin stared right on unashamedly. Her voice held the same accent as Djaq's but only slightly – surprisingly, she sounded almost English. Allan noticed Much sneaking looks at her as he pretended to organise bottles of something or other on a shelf and grinned. So much for common decency – you had to be completely free of curiosity not to want a peek.

"Sorry we took so long," Djaq stated as she stepped into the cave, pulling her friend behind her by the hand. As the light fell upon her, Allan was able to get a proper look. She was taller than Djaq but only by about an inch, with a look of sinewy grace about her. She wasn't that shapely but the tight-fitting black outfit she wore emphasised her lean arms and legs, her flat stomach. Allan generally preferred them with a bit more curves, but he supposed she couldn't help that. Her hair was long and loose, a mantle of silky black waves. Had Djaq's been like that, before she cut it? Even with his vivid imagination, he couldn't picture her like that. The girl's skin was only a shade darker than Djaq's, a rich tan which complimented her catlike features. Catlike was the word for it, he decided: large, almond shaped dark eyes, high cheekbones and full lips. In a way she looked like Djaq but the differences were there, obvious and subtle at the same time.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," the girl remarked with a lazy grin. She almost drawled all her words, as he was to learn. "Don't be so rude Djaq; introduce me to your friends." Even Allan, who didn't normally notice that sort of thing, picked up on the way she said Djaq – almost like she was trying out the name. Then he remembered: Djaq was called something else before. Something beginning with S.

"Why bother? You could guess them faster than I could tell you," Djaq replied, sliding into the tiny space between Allan and Will. The girl managed to slip into the even smaller space between Djaq and Will. Once comfortable, she grinned so confidently it was disconcerting.

"What, guessing games? How childish of you. I'd prefer introductions, thank you very much," she retorted. Djaq shrugged, returning the girl's grin in a familiar way he'd never seen before on her face.

"If you really feel like being lazy," she teased. "Now, where should I start..." She looked around and Allan suddenly felt a crazy urge to shout 'me first!'. However, she looked towards Marian and Robin and decided to start there. "Well you already know Marian-"

"That I do."

"Don't interrupt! If you want introductions, listen to them."

"Oh pardon me, I beg your forgiveness," the girl replied, not sounding particularly bothered. Djaq laughed.

"You have it," she returned. "Anyway, as I was saying, the man next to her is Robin Hood." The girl opened her mouth to say something but one glare from Djaq stopped her. Allan grinned. He liked confidant Djaq _very _much indeed. "He's the leader here. That means shutting up and listening when he starts to talk, alright?" The girl mimed locking her lips and throwing away an invisible key, which made everyone laugh. "I don't know what else to say-"

"I deserve more of an introduction than that," Robin protested and Marian slapped his arm playfully.

"What, so we can hear more about your glorious self?" She asked mockingly and that brought forth more laughs.

"Anyway, what can I say about Robin..." Djaq hummed when the laughter died down. "He likes to be in charge. He's good with bow and sword – _very _good with bow. Oh yes, and he's in love with Marian." The woman in question blushed and Robin looked away in embarrassment. "To add to that, he gets embarrassed about it." More laughs, until Djaq held up her hand for silence.

"Standing over there is Much. Much does all the cooking and such, as well as helping us. Beside him is Little John-"

"Don't I get a bit more than that?" Much exclaimed. "Robin got loads more!"

"Well, unless you want to introduce yourself..." Djaq suggested. Much fell silent, although everyone could hear him grumbling under his breath. "As I was saying, beside him is Little John. He's strong, fights with a staff and doesn't take nonsense."

"If that was directed at me, I never talk nonsense," the girl objected and Djaq snorted.

"Liar," she grinned. "Anyway, this is Allan." Allan smirked as the girl turned her attention to him. "He talks a lot. You'll get used to it, seeing how much you talk yourself. Oh yes, and never play him at anything – he always cheats."

"I do not!" Allan protested. Almost everyone started laughing and yelling contradictions at him until he held up his hands. "Alright, maybe I do. Sometimes." The yelling started again until finally he was forced to admit defeat. "Alright, a lot. I'm not being funny, but this is bullying. Now she's going to think badly of me."

"What's a good game without cheating?" The girl asked, her voice innocent but her eyes sparkling with a challenge. _Mental note: __a challenger at last. I owe her a game_

"You would say that," Djaq frowned. "You never play anything fairly. Remember when we were playing shatranj and every time I turned around you hid one of my pieces?"

"I never!" The girl exclaimed in mock outrage. "Well...I might've...but that was when we were younger." The two laughed and Allan wondered what shatranj was.

"Anyway, can I continue now?" Djaq asked. The girl nodded. "Well, Will says you know him..."

"Will Scarlet?" She turned to grin mischievously at him. "We've had our chance encounters, haven't we? And didn't I promise you we'd meet again?" He nodded and Allan raised his eyebrows. Evidently something about Will had attracted the talkative Saracen girl. "When I promise something, I keep my word." She grinned excitedly at all of them.

"You also promised lots of drama in the future," Will pointed out. Allan grinned. Will must have a thing for Saracens, though it'd be impossible to get him to admit it. Unless he was drunk. The very idea of a drunk Will made him laugh and he had to take several deep breaths before he could look in his friend's direction again. The girl tapped her nose with a sly smirk.

"Oh there will be," she stated. "But that's for me to know – or guess at – and you to find out. Now, do I get an introduction?" Everyone sat up a little bit straighter and she laughed. "The moment you've all been waiting for?" She suggested.

"You can bet it is," Djaq grinned. "Alright everyone, I'm very pleased to introduce my best friend Kioka." The girl gave an amused wave. "I've known her for a very long time and she's got some very useful talents, I promise."

"So she's not your sister?" Allan asked half mournfully. He hated it when his theories were wrong. Kioka laughed and shook her head.

"We're as close as sisters," she offered, "but not actually related." Will mouthed 'I told you so' behind her back and Allan glared.

"It's rude to brag," he frowned at Will and everyone else looked thoroughly confused.

"Is this one of your inside jokes?" Much asked. Allan continued to glare at Will who grinned before answering.

"It's not exactly a joke," he replied. Much frowned.

"Well that's not much help," he complained. Will shrugged and Kioka grinned before Djaq nudged her.

"What?" She hissed.

"You have to ask!"

"Ask what?"

"Permission! We talked about this!"

"What, do I have to ask _now_?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

"Because it's polite!"

"Alright fine," Kioka sighed, rolling her eyes. Spreading her hands in a dramatic fashion, she proclaimed: "I'd like to stay here with you, if that's alright. After all, I'm a maid and a maid has to look after her mistress." Here she winked at Marian, who burst into stifled laughter. "So can I stay? Please?" Robin shrugged.

"Can we trust her?" He asked Djaq who opened her mouth to answer. Kioka, however, got there first.

"Of course you can't," she answered, and Robin frowned. "You can't trust _anyone_; you should know that by know. At any rate, I don't expect your trust until I've earned it. You'll have to be content with the promise that I will never betray Djaq or Marian." Robin opened his mouth then closed it again. At last he spoke.

"If Djaq thinks highly of you, I'll believe her." Kioka smiled, an honest smile that made everyone want to smile with her.

"I'm very grateful to you," she told him.

"As long as you don't cause any trouble, I suppose it'll work out."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Kioka answered, voice filled with exaggerated innocence. "I _never _cause trouble."


	17. Of Love In Every Manner

**Sorry updates took so long - being back to school has been keeping me busy. I was supposed to be writing an essay on Richard III but this is much more fun :) Next week I'm camping I'm afraid, so no chapter then. Anyway, this chapter is really just a filler to add a bit of fluff into the seriousness. The first part may be a bit sad but don't worry. Thank you so much to all who reviewed, please can I have five reviews before the next?**

**Review Responses:**

**xXxSour-LemonxXx: Thank God, I don't think I could live if there wasn't! I just read that Lucy Griffiths will not be returning :( and that Robin may even have a new love interest!!! Noooo!! Anyway, thanks for reviewing x x x**

**elmlea: Clever girl, you guess correct! Allan is so much fun to write, really. Funnily enough, I'm quite fond of WD myself - I just decided to go for an alternative. Thanks!**

**Pig-The-Prophetess: I know what you mean - lately there've been more updates than ever. I think it's to do with the Lady Clark of Book's challende; even I decided to join in that! I always thought that that would be Kioka's biggest problem; she finds it very difficult to be herself because she spends so much time lying. You can see why Djaq would find this trying. I think I have...that may have been where I got the idea from, as I don't really know much about birds. Ah, Djaq and love make me laugh - she really has trouble with it even though she finds herself in love without realising! I assume that in the last two episodes they 'bonded' over the boat journey, otherwise it was going a slight bit too fast for my liking. Robin and Marian really are brilliant. As Allan puts it later on, they are The Perfect Couple. Perfectly matched, fighting or otherwise. But now she's gone... :( Oh, Allan would practise being dark and brooding! I love writing him, it's always so much fun! I like the way that he and Will beat each other at different things - Will may be able to stay serious for long periods of time but Allan knows his stuff when it comes to love. I can't wait to get started properly at Will and Kioka...I felt so full of the need to write a scene with them, I wrote a big long piece of fluff for future use. It's not the one in this chapter but I hope I can use it at some point. Thanks!**

**Fwoggeh: Well, we all know Kioka's a troublemaker. I still can't get over Marian's death - apparently the beeb want to give Robin a new love interest!! Good luck with revision; doing school work is hard when you've got better things like writing on your mind :)**

* * *

_Amani Obemaek stared down at the baby girl in her arms. "Safiya," she whispered in wonder. Even after full months, she was still surprised every time she looked at her child, still full of awe. It was her child, she could see that now. She could see it in the thick, jet black hair, the large, warm brown eyes. They were so intelligent, so full of life; it amazed her to think that _she _had given her life, a silly young noblewoman with idealistic views and too much wilfulness in her soul. At least that was what her father had called her when she had refused to be married to Amir, wanting her independence. That, at least, was a mistake – no one could love her more than Amir, no one could be more forgiving, more understanding. She loved him so much, just like their beautiful baby girl, her beautiful, intelligent boy._

_Safiya.__ She was going to do something special, that Amani was certain of. She wanted her daughter to have the life she'd never had, the life she'd wanted so desperately. She wanted her to save the world, to be brave and strong and clever just like the warrior queens of legend. She wanted her to escape from this life of rules and closed doors, where no girl would every receive anything worth something. Safiya was worth more, more than the dark veils and looks of contempt that resided at court. Amani wanted her daughter to have freedom, to have a choice, to have everything she had dreamed of and never got. Amir would teach her all that – fighting and learning, men's skills. She didn't know what she could give her daughter; she couldn't even read. Women were not supposed to read, to be intelligent, and because of someone's selfish wish Amani could give her daughter nothing of value. __Her beautiful Safiya, her shining star, her sun and moon.__ Djaq would have opportunities but Safiya would not unless Amani did something for her. __Her baby._

_Tahirah had a baby girl too now, in spite of her previous two difficult childbirths. Djaq was at their house now, playing with Rasaj while Rikash went off to his lessons. Kioka was the baby's name, after a Chinese great- grandmother or something. They would be friends, Kioka and Safiya, because Amani knew that Jamal would not allow any child of his to grow up without an education. Tahirah was less stubborn, less determined. She feared for Kioka's safety, Amani could see that, but there was more to the small woman than met the eye. Amani knew that when the time came she would fight for her baby, fight to give her a life worthy of her. Any woman would. __Kioka was bound to be like Jamal, intelligent and fiery - a good mix. She would be able to take care of herself. Amani wondered what Safiya would be like. She hoped she would be like Jamal, honest and caring, brave and ready to fight for justice. And maybe, if she was lucky, Safiya would take after her mother too. She could be determined, loyal, __hopefully__ a little more sensible than her mother__ was__. Hopefully she would not make the same mistakes, the same silly idea that everyone would bow to her will. No, Safiya would not be like that. She would be like her brother, intelligent and courageous, willing to help._

_Djaq was her boy, her first miracle, but Safiya was special. Although Amani would never admit that to anyone, Safiya was special. Safiya was a girl, the daughter she'd longed for. They would be close, Amani knew. When she was a child no one would be more loved, more cherished. They would play together and read together. She would take her first steps in the hands of her mother. When she was a young woman they would sit and talk, bond over things that only they would understand. Amani would be there for her throughout all her difficulties, her problems and her trials. When she was married, Amani would visit her every day and when she had children Amani would be the best grandmother in the world. That was the way things would be. Safiya would be her reason for living, her aim. She would stay alive for her and her children, however many there may be. __And if, Allah forbid, she could not have children, then Amani would comfort her and stay with her throughout the rest of her life so she would never be alone. She would do anything for her beautiful, darling girl._

_Djaq was returning. The sunlight streamed through the window, lighting up Safiya's tiny features like she was an angel. __A gift from Allah.__A miracle.__ Djaq, her beautiful boy, was here now and they were all together again. __Her family, her world.__ They would live by her rules, the rules of freedom and choice, of opportunity. Life would be perfect and her children would always have their mother there, watching over them. Amani would always look after her babies._

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Kioka hummed idly, her back against the sun-drenched wood of the roughly made bed. She sat on the floor of the cave; the roof had been opened to let the golden sunlight through. It was a beautiful day in contrast to the past week of frost and freezing winds. Everyone else was doing separate things – Allan and Djaq had gone to Locksley; Robin, Much, Marian and John had gone to Nottingham. Only she and Will had remained at the camp, primarily because they had both been out the day before. Kioka had visited the servants' quarters at the palace to see some old friends; as Roseanna's maid she had made several acquaintances in the palace. After a bit of persuading she had managed to coerce a few of them to look out for anything suspicious and send word of what they heard. Their numbers totalled five: Ines, the stern battleaxe of a cook; Fiona, a redhead chambermaid with a beautiful voice; Leah, the girl who had recently been promoted to replace her role as Roseanna's maid; Jacob, a young guard who flirted with absolutely everyone and Rosa, a tiny kitchen girl who sometimes served Gisborne. Kioka grinned as she thought about it, liking the idea of having spies in the castle. _Her _spies, more to the point. It was what she had dreamed about when she was little. Sighing contentedly, she closed her eyes and continued to hum softly. In a moment, clouds would cover the sun and the warmth would be gone – she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted. Will lay on the bed she was leaning against, fiddling with some piece of wood. Even though Kioka had only been with them a week, she already knew of Will's skill with wood and wasn't about to interrupt him. Instead, she thought about Djaq and Allan. Allan and Djaq. The thought made her smile. It was easy to recognise the look on Djaq's face when she was near him and even easier to see it on Allan's face. When she and Safiya were little, they used to talk about what marrying for love would be like. It would always end with Safiya saying scornfully, "love is for silly girls who can't look after themselves.' They used to talk about how idiotic falling in love was and now Djaq had gone and done it.

"Will," she began to ask thoughtfully. "Do you think Allan and Djaq are in love?" Behind her she felt him tense and winced. Maybe he wasn't the right person to ask.

"If you think so," he answered in a low voice. Kioka sighed, recognising the symptoms from a book of love stories she had read when she was bored. Why were things never simple?

"Are _you_ in love with Djaq?" She asked. Then she cursed herself. There was _definitely _a more tactful way to ask that question. Will didn't answer for a moment – she got the feeling that it was one of those things he didn't talk about much.

"Yes," he finally admitted with more than a hint of reluctance in his voice.

"Oh." Kioka paused, unsure of what to say to that. She didn't like the way this conversation was going. "I guess that's not very good, is it?"

"No, not really. Seeing as she's in love with Allan now." Kioka didn't have to look at Will's face to feel his bitterness. She _really _didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"Well, you don't know that," she offered in an attempt to placate him. "They could just be...very good friends."

"I think we both know that if you can see it and you've only been here for a week, we might as well start booking their wedding." That made Kioka grin. She couldn't imagine Djaq getting married, even though both girls had come close to it.

"I'd hardly call Djaq the marrying type," she pointed out. "Allan as well. He seems more of an...opportunist, if you see my meaning. I think he'd find being married a bit too restricting." Will laughed.

"You see too much," he told her. "Honestly, I think I'd put a bet on you knowing everyone here's secrets in a months time."

"A month? I'm offended you think so little of me," Kioka returned flippantly. "I'd give it two weeks. Maids do love gossip, you know."

"You're about as much of a maid as Allan is a nobleman," Will retorted. "You know, one day I'll find out who you really are."

"Good luck with that," Kioka smirked, thinking about what his reaction would really be if he knew that he had two Saracen noblewomen living with him. "In the mean time, I make a perfectly good maid. I hem dresses, I clean floors, I talk about my mistress...why, I'm the epitome of maidly perfection."

"Do your qualities include modesty and speaking only when spoken to?"

"Well, no one's perfect," Kioka grinned and Will laughed. She pushed herself up to sit on the bed beside his stretched out form, crossing her legs like a little girl. "Show me what you were working on?" Will opened his hand to reveal an elaborately carved hairpin like the ones women at court wore. At one end was an elegant rose; the other end was deadly sharp. "Oh, that's beautiful! Hairpin-turned-dagger?" He nodded. Kioka picked it up, examining it closely. It was the sort of thing she absolutely adored – seemingly harmless, secretly deadly. "Who's it for?"

"Well..." Will hesitated, looking down in embarrassment. "It was going to be for Djaq. But then I remembered she can't wear it because her hair is too short. So I don't know who to give them to."

"Them?" Kioka blinked then remembered; hairpins came in sets. "Well, you could give it to Djaq and tell her to wait until her hair grows, I suppose. Or you could save it for someone else. I don't think Djaq wants long hair." Will shrugged and Kioka noted he was very good at hiding his disappointment.

"Will you put them on?" He asked. She looked at him curiously. "I want to see what they would look like and I can't very well ask anyone else."

"Alright then." She turned around, pulling her hair loose from the ribbon. "Will you do it for me? I've never been good with hairpins." That was true; her mother had always had to do her hair for her unless she used ribbons. Will sat up and moved forward, sliding his hands under her dark waves.

"You have beautiful hair," he remarked softly and she smiled, feeling foolish as she blushed slightly. "Was Djaq's hair like this?"

"No," Kioka answered. "Well, it was the same colour and thickness but hers was always curlier. She used to have ringlets, you know. She absolutely hated them of course – she said they made her look like a doll. Everyone else loved them." She felt herself relax as Will's hands moved through her long hair, pinning it gently in place. "When did you learn to pin a girl's hair up?" He shrugged.

"It's something you pick up. My brother, Luke, he used to really like a girl in our village. Her name was Meggie and she used to be always losing her hairpins. Sometimes she'd come over to visit Luke and lose every single one of them and then say that she needed someone to do her hair for her. Luke was absolutely hopeless at that sort of thing so he used to pay me to do it with doing my chores and stuff. I would've done it for him anyway – you have to look out for your brother – but he got all proud and said he didn't need charity." Kioka smiled sadly. She remembered her brothers: Rikash with his own family, her beautiful niece and nephew; Rasaj, clumsy but daring and impulsive. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I used to have two brothers," she replied slowly. "Now I only have one, or at least I hope I still have one. Rikash and Rasaj." Will was silent for a moment.

"Do you miss your home?" He asked at last. She frowned.

"I suppose so. It was my life, where I belonged. But then I've had many different homes since then." Will didn't ask any more and Kioka was grateful for that. She hated talking about her old life but something about Will give an honest answer.

"Your hair's done," he told her and she cautiously reached a hand up. Her hair had been twisted into an elegant knot, just like when she was a noblewoman. "No mirrors, I'm afraid." Kioka turned to face him.

"Do they look nice?" She asked and he smiled.

"Beautiful," Will answered honestly. "Keep them. They suit you perfectly."

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The problem with doing anything with Allan, Djaq reflected, was that you never actually got around to doing what you planned to do in the first place. Today was a prime example; the two had set off to Nottingham with the full intent of doing the part of their job where they gave money to the poor. Yet somehow they were lying down in a cornfield outside Sherwood, enjoying the sun and neither of them making a single move to try and get back on track. The day was beautiful, sunlight streaming down from a sapphire blue sky, the long grass waving around their heads as they stared upwards. Djaq closed her eyes, feeling warmth drench her face like honey. A day like this was made for relaxing, for lying down in the sun and simply living, not thinking about the past or the future. She opened her eyes to look at Allan, stretched out beside her. His eyes were closed, a wide grin on his face. Their heads were almost touching and suddenly she was aware of something between them, something unnamed that hung in the air, so fragile that it felt like a single word could break it. She said nothing, just listened to the sound of Allan breathing and felt that precious, nameless feeling grow stronger and stronger.

"Tell me a story, Allan," Djaq whispered. For some reason she was suddenly conscious of her heartbeat, like a beating drum against her skin, and it made her smile. "And make it true this time, not one of your fantasies."

"You really want one?" Djaq didn't look at him; instead, she gazed up at the waving strands of grass above her and imagined she was part of the earth.

"Yes, please." She felt rather than saw him grin and told herself that it was the warm air that was making her blush.

"Alright then." He was silent for a few moments, obviously trying to pick one, and Djaq simply smiled and closed her eyes. "When I was a boy, about twelve or so, I met this girl called Annabelle. She was lovely, all golden hair and blue eyes. Tom had his eye on her too and we kind of struck up a...competition, if you like. She was like one of those fairytale princesses my Ma used to tell us about, she was that pretty. She liked us too, you know. I always used to think she liked me more, but I don't know. I'm not being funny but she always got a bit...stuck up about that sort of thing. Anyway, we were out down by the woods at the bottom of her house and Tom decided to profess his undying love for her. So I thought, 'alright, two can play at that game', and I copied him. Mine came out better of course. But, moving on, there we were, both kneeling in the middle of some woods looking absolutely ridiculous and she just stared at us. There was a huge silence and then she folded her arms and said: 'you can't think I'd want _you. _I'm going to marry a _prince._' And off she went, marched right back to her house and left us there." Djaq giggled, imagining the two boys.

"That's funny," she told him. "When I was little, I didn't want to marry a prince at all. I didn't want to marry anyone, ever. Kioka and I used to talk about it sometimes. I'd always say 'love is for silly girls that can't look after themselves' and that would be that. Kioka would tell me about her 'friends' and the way they'd all compare their little knowledge of men. She said that when they heard about what her brothers were like, they'd all be terribly disappointed until one of them said, 'well, a prince would be different.'"

"Most girls want to fall in love with a prince, though I didn't think you'd be one of them. You still hate the idea of love and all that?" Djaq frowned, thinking hard.

"I don't know. I mean, I still think people are foolish when they're in love, but Marian's in love with Robin and she's definitely not foolish. Or unable to take care of herself. It's so confusing. What do you think?"

"Me?" Djaq could tell she had surprised him. He shifted slightly. "I don't know. It's a pain I suppose. I mean, Robin and Marian look all lovey-dovey and good for them. But most people don't get it that way. I'm not being funny, but love is hard if...if you love someone and you don't know if they'd love you back."

"Have you ever loved someone, Allan A Dale?" Djaq asked dreamily. The scent of flowers and spring was strong, making her feel light-headed. She felt like she wasn't real anymore, like she'd become part of the earth, one with the grass and the flowers and the trees and the sunshine.

"Yes," Allan answered quietly. "Yes, I have." His voice was different, changed and it made Djaq concerned to hear it. It felt like a part of her was slipping away, part of the calmness and the unity. She reached over and caught his hand.

"Whoever she is, she's a lucky woman," she told him, looking into his green eyes. He smiled and the precious, unnamed feeling thrummed through the air to the sound of her heartbeat.


	18. Caught

**Firstly, I apologise for the late update - it really was too long. Hopefully I _should _get something up next weekend (on account of it being my birthday weekend :) ) but I wouldn't count on it - I might be going away. At any rate, hopefully this chapter satisfies you (IMPORTANT PLOT DEVELOPMENT). The beginning is just a little drabble, it's the rest you have to watch out for :) I hope you like it, please review and tell me what you think! If you could, I'd love to get five reviews before the next chapter. Here are the Review Responses:**

Keeping Amused **- Thank you! I really love writing poetic scenes, so I decided to dedicate an entire chapter to them. Will is still drawn to Djaq; she is the more obvious choice of course, but Kioka and Will will (hopefully) become more apparent as the story goes on. **

Fwoggeh **- The beginning made me sad just writing it. I just had a sudden thought of what Safiya's mother would feel about her daughter and what she wanted for her, especially as she never features much. Thank you! You should write book reviews, they would make a lot of authors very happy :)**

xXxSour-LemonxXx - **Thank you! I felt it was time for a bit of fluff after all the seriousness. If Robin got a new love interest, there would be protests everywhere :P**

EmilieAnne-xo - **Thanks! I really wanted a fluff scene between all my main pairings, just to loosen up the tension a bit. I'm glad you liked it!**

Kates Master - **Oh, so you're the sister of...Kates Master's Sister. That is funny :P Thank you, I'm beginning to wonder whether putting up my age on my profile was a bad idea - it might put people off. Funnily enough, I'm quite a big WD fan myself, I just decided to do something different as there are so many WDs on here. I hate it when, if writing an AD fic, people just pretend WD never happened, which is why I put it in; it's realistic. I tried to follow your request, so hopefully this chapter will be a bit easier to read! Thanks for the advice!**

Myth87 - **Thank you! I've always been worried it wouldn't make sense if you read it straight. I love your long ramble by the way, it's so much fun to read. I know what you mean about WD being overdone - that's the reason I did AD in the first place, because I thought it would stand out, even if it has probably lost me readers. Djaq and Allan are very interesting to write because Djaq will never admit she's in love and Allan thinks she'll reject him. If you're looking forward to Allan 'coming clean' about Gisborne, you'll love this chapter. Thank you so much, I try hard to make sure Kioka has her flaws as well so that she doesn't end up as a rip-off of Djaq or a Mary Sue. There aren't many stories about Djaq as a child, which makes it all the more interesting to write, because I can make it all up. Oh, I have a lot of things in mind for Roseanna... (evil grin) Thank you so much!!!**

**Disclaimer: (because it's been a while since I had one) I don't own Robin Hood. If you haven't figured that out from the fact the storyline's completely different, you obviously aren't reading it properly.**

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_"__That must be Lord __Obemaek__'s__ daughter, the little one with the big eyes." Safiya's ears pricked up as she heard her father's name and she turned around slightly. The __twelve__-year-old stood in the corner of her father's living room, a beautifully decorated place for him to entertain guests like he was doing now. The walls were a cool cream with gold patterns that wove their way around the room, over the expensive day-beds and dark oak tables with ornate legs. All around her important nobles drifted, surrounded by clouds of scented air. It was her brother's birthday – and,__ as he was now fourteen__, the year he was brought into court. __Hence the celebrations and the crowds of rich men and women that filled her house, in order to welcome Djaq to manhood (in a manner of speaking)._

_"Is it really? I expected her to look like Lady Amani – with such a beautiful mother, one would expect the girl to look a bit more..." The two __women __appeared__ not to notice that Safiya could hear them, gazing over her critically. Safiya went red and looked down, biting back the rising anger in her. What right did these women have to barge into her house and insult her? _

_"Ignore it," Kioka whispered softly into her ear and Safiya nodded, straightening her posture. She resisted the urge to tug at her veil; she hated covering her face, having the itchy fabric cover her nose and mouth like she had some kind of disease. Still, she knew the consequences for those who did not follow the rules and grudgingly put it one whenever they had visitors. Beside her, Kioka stood up straight, looking the very image of a docile noblewoman – not an easy task for her, when her habit was to slouch over in boredom. _

_"__Next to her, that must be the Fonfala girl. Honestly, I can't see why so many people are so taken by __her,__ she's just an ordinary girl..." Kioka straightened a bit more and Safiya could sense her sudden smile._

_"What's got you?" She whispered._

_"I love it when people recognise my skills," Kioka whispered, her voice making it clear she was grinning. Safiya rolled her eyes. Of course – Kioka would've taken it as a compliment, ignoring the fact she'd just been insulted. The mere mention that people were 'taken' with her was enough to keep her happy. _

_"Is that all you are thinking of?" Safiya muttered. "Oh, don't look now, here they come." The two women who had just been discussing Kioka and Safiya so loudly had drifted over to the two girls. One was a tall, stately woman with a large beak for a nose. Her veil barely covered it, it stood out from her face so much. She wore the full veil, reaching down to her elbows, but it was embroidered with some of the most elaborate designs Safiya had ever seen. The other woman was a short, plump lady with __iron gray curls that peeked out from under her deep blue veil defiantly._

_"My ladies," Kioka murmured and Safiya hurriedly followed her examples, giving a messy bow. The tall woman raised an eyebrow._

_"My dear, you may refer to us as 'Your Graces'," she informed Kioka haughtily. "I am Duchess __Aalane__ of __Imahyn__ and this is Duchess __Sakina__ of __Hajumuat__."_

_"I am honoured by your attention, your Graces," Kioka answered meekly, __giving another respectful bow__ Safiya tried to copy her example but rushed it and straightened up, red-faced. Why was Kioka gifted with this automatic ability to be graceful in any situation? The two duchesses __appeared to have been mollified slightly; the smaller one even seemed to smile (not that one could tell underneath her veil.)_

_"You must be very proud on behalf of Lord Djaq," Duchess __Hajumuat__ offered, somehow managing to sound both patronising and uninterested at the same time. "How old are you both?"_

_"We are both twelve, your Grace," Kioka replied, her sweet tone accented by respectful awe. Safiya had to fight to stop __herself__ scowling. Kioka could be very annoying when she was pretending._

_"I see," Duchess __Imahyn__ frowned. Safiya suspected the frown was permanently plastered to her face. "Tell me, little one, do you learn much at home?"_

_"Learn?" Kioka asked innocently, though Safiya could tell she was surprised. "Do you mean with books and that sort, your Grace?" The tall woman nodded. "Oh no, your Grace. My father says that learning is not for woman; we must only learn to be meek and obedient at all times, as __Allah wished, so that we fill our place__." __She finished her little speech with a shy blink. Duchess __Imahyn__ seemed pleased with this answer – at least she gave a slight nod, her expression softening slightly._

_"And you, do you learn the same?" She questioned Safiya, who froze in fright. What if she gave the wrong answer? As the silence grew almost audible, Kioka stepped in to save her._

_"You must forgive my friend, your Graces," she murmured. "She finds it very difficult to speak in company; she takes the teachings of Allah very seriously, up to the point where she only speaks when necessary as so not to draw attention to herself. Lord Obemaek is quite strict with her, I believe." Duchess __Imahyn__ gave a rare smile, as did Duchess __Hajumuat_

_"Just as a young noblewoman should behave," she replied. "I'm delighted to hear Lord Obemaek keeps such a good household. Your brother must be a perfect child just like you. Now, if you excuse us..." The two duchesses nodded to both girls then drifted off again. Safiya waited until they were out of earshot before she turned to Kioka._

_"Strict? My father isn't strict!"_

_"I know but that type love to hear about order in households. Didn't you see? They simply ate it up," Kioka replied knowingly. She spread her hands and shrugged. "And anyway, what does it matter if she thinks you and your brother are extremely well behaved?" Safiya stared at her as if she were mad._

_"She's expecting Djaq to be some docile, well-behaved little lord," she stated as if Kioka was stupid. "I just hope __Djaq matures a lot before the next time he meets her."_

_"Why?" Kioka asked in confusion. Safiya stared after the two women, a troubled expression on her face._

_"You and your big mouth," she sighed. "Kioka, Djaq's betrothed to Duchess __Imahyn's__ daughter." Kioka simply blinked for a moment. Then she laughed._

_"Well, she's in for a shock, isn't she?"_

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_S__o the winter returns, _Kioka thought bitterly as she rubbed her numb hands. Above her, the sky was grey and ominous; the clouds were a heavy, turbulent mass that threatened to burst any moment. She did _not _want to be caught out in the rain. All around her, the people of Nottingham seemed to have had the same idea – market sellers packed up their stalls hurriedly and the crowds were rapidly dispersing in search of shelter. The other outlaws were somewhere among them, Kioka and Marian being the only ones to have finished their respective tasks and returned to the meeting point. Only John was not in Nottingham, having gone to visit Locksley. Kioka pulled her cloak tighter, glaring into the wind. If there was one thing about England she hated, it was the cold. She didn't mind rain, wind or snow – it was just the constant chill, cutting right to her bones, which she couldn't stand. Marian didn't seem as bothered by it, though she still shivered in her thin cloak. Kioka's hood was pulled up to hide her distinctive skin colour and keep her inconspicuous – hard to do when one is an inch taller than every other woman and wearing an all-black outfit that consisted of trousers and shirt. Marian also had her hood up – she was a well known figure in Nottingham and it was said the Sheriff had a warrant out for her.

"Oh, where are they?" The noblewoman frowned impatiently, eyes searching for a familiar face among the crowds. "It's going to rain any second, surely they realise that?"

"Maybe they've taken shelter," Kioka suggested idly, her dark gaze flitting over the people in the street until they rested on two individuals. "Although it seems we spoke too soon. Look, there's Djaq and Much." She pointed in the direction of their friends, who darted through the crowds toward them hurriedly. "How nice of you two to join us."

"We're not that late!" Much protested while Djaq grinned. "Just because you two are early doesn't mean that we were late at all, actually!" The three women rolled their eyes at each other in amusement.

"At least we got back before the others," Djaq pointed out. Much nodded vigorously.

"Exactly. You can't count on either Robin or Allan to stick to a schedule, and Will just lets them do what they want, so we'll end up being here for a good while longer!" He stated, sounding very disapproving. Marian laughed then scowled as a particularly cold blast of wind hit her in the face. "And I just hate this cold! Can't we go inside?" Much finished with a moan.

"They won't know where we are," Djaq commented. The street was almost deserted, everyone else having scurried away to find shelter. A drop of rain landed on her nose and she screwed up her face in irritation.

"It serves them right for keeping us waiting," Marian snapped, looking equally fed up. "It's cold, it's windy and it's going to rain..." Just then, the skies burst open above them. Rain suddenly poured down in a torrent, taking them all by surprise. Kioka yelled in protest as the cold water hit her skin, sending shocks of ice through her body. Much glared at Marian.

"You had to say it, didn't you?" He accused her. Everyone stared at him in confusion. "If you say something bad is going to happen, it always does! Always!" Marian simply pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and gave him a dark look. Just then, two figures came dashing out of a side street, one almost slipping in the mud and landing on his bow.

"Don't say a word about us being late," Robin warned, shooting glares at the four of them.

"And I suppose we can't mention you almost falling over just then?" Marian asked with a slight smirk. Djaq, Kioka and Much had to stifle their laughter as Robin gave her a cold stare and turned away, only to be hit in the face by a sharp onslaught of rain. He gasped at the chilling water as Will came up behind him.

"Where's Allan?" Kioka asked curiously. All around her, the gang rolled their eyes and made various irritated noises. She exchanged a look of confusion with Marian, who shrugged.

"He's doing 'nothing' again," Djaq replied, making it clear that she had no idea what Allan was doing and wasn't happy about it. Kioka raised an eyebrow.

"Do you mean you don't know where he is?" She asked sceptically. "Surely he can't be _that _hard to find."

"Well, we know _where_ he is, we just don't know what he's doing there," Will put in. Everyone looked surprised.

"We know where he is?" Robin asked in confusion. Will looked vaguely embarrassed.

"Er, yeah, I might have forgotten to mention it...I saw him go into one of the taverns along the walls of the town. 'The King's Man' or something like that." There was a long silence as everyone absorbed this. Then, as if on purpose, the rain suddenly got a lot wilder and they all remembered that they were standing in the street, soaking wet.

"I'll go get him!" Kioka shouted over the roar of the wind. Curiosity had always been one of her vices and now she felt the familiar need for information her father had installed in her. The others, keen to get out of the storm, nodded in agreement and headed towards a nearby tavern. Djaq looked back over her shoulder once in hesitation but a huge gust of wind made up her mind for her. She followed the others towards the glowing windows and promise of warmth.

Kioka darted through the streets, her boots splashing through the mud but protecting her feet from the water. All around her, wooden shutters were bolted shut in a desperate attempt to keep the cold out. The walls of the houses grew steadily more derelict as she headed towards the outskirts, the windows slowly becoming more broken and filthy as she progressed. The mud was almost up to her ankles, a filthy mass that stuck to her boots and pulled at her ankles, trying to trip her up. She thanked Allah for the few things she had brought from home, her expensive but sturdy boots being just one of the several useful possessions she had. Out of sheer habit she had memorised the maps of Nottingham when she had first discovered she was coming, back at the Woodsen Estate, and so she knew exactly where to go. The journey took her about fifteen minutes running. Approaching the place, a small and dingy building that was almost right up against the town walls, Kioka couldn't help feeling it was a bit of an anticlimax. The tavern was almost falling down, the windows grimy and a few panes broken. Behind the only whole window, a single candle flickered forlornly.

"Nice taste, Allan," she muttered, slowing her run to a walk as she stepped up to the door. The rain still poured down steadily but instead of bursting in she pushed the door softly, checking to see if anyone was behind. When Kioka realised the room was empty, she slipped in silently and stood in the middle of the floor, gazing around at her surroundings. The place was mostly bare, a few crooked chairs and rough tables in one corner. Across the back wall was a dusty bar that looked as if it hadn't been used for the past ten years. What was Allan doing here? Kioka froze as she heard voices, then crept towards the door in the corner, leading to what she presumed was a back room. Time to find out.

"Look, d'you want the money or not?" Came a sharp, twanging woman's voice. She sounded irritated, as was clear by her next sentence: "Because if you ain't gonna take it, there ain't nothing stoppin' me from walkin' off with it! I got mouths to feed, y'know!" Her voice was loud, bitter – from what Kioka could tell, she was a young, poor woman who hated her life and probably hated her children too.

"Look, I'm not saying that." Allan's voice rose in protest. He sounded angry and...afraid, Kioka realised. Afraid of what? Of being caught? Of losing the 'money'? "I'm just saying, things aren't that easy any more. If I keep going off like this, they'll get suspicious." Kioka's breath caught in her throat. Could he mean what she thought he meant? If she was right and the 'they' were the outlaws, Allan had some serious explaining to do.

"Then find a better way of sneaking around," the woman snapped. Allan mumbled something that Kioka couldn't hear. Evidently it didn't appease his acquaintance; if anything, her voice rose even higher. "Tryin'! You're bloody well not tryin'! You're just sittin' here complainin' like an old woman, that's what you're doin'. So don't you try any of your pretty tricks on me, I got better things to do than sit and listen to rats like you moanin'. You got a problem, take it to the boss! It ain't my business!"

"It isn't that simple!" Allan was yelling now.

"Look, just take the money and go," the woman snarled. "Go back to your little camp and play spies again. Sir Gisborne ain't payin' you to moan, he's payin' you to get some information!" There was the sound of metal slamming onto wood and footsteps coming towards the door. Kioka quickly ducked behind the bar, blood pounding in her ears. Allan was a traitor? Her head spun but the logical part of her mind took control, putting everything into priorities. Her primary thought was for herself. In that area she wasn't unduly concerned – she could take on Allan with ease – and her logical side skipped down to the next on the list: Djaq. Djaq and Marian, more to the point; she needed to ensure protection for both. One thing was for sure; if Djaq got hurt, Allan would have hell to pay. Footsteps passed the other side of the bar, lighter than any man's, and Kioka waited for the sound of the door to assure her that the woman was gone. It slammed unnecessarily loudly and Kioka crawled forward. Allan was staring into space, clutching a small bag of money in one hand. Kioka stared at him in outright disgust – he could've at _least_ asked for a bit more in return for putting his only friends' lives in danger. He obviously had no idea what he was doing; otherwise he would've handled that situation far better. It was time for her to show him what he was up against.

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Allan stared at the money miserably. Forty coins. It was reminiscent of Judas betray Jesus, except Allan had always been told Judas was the bad one. And now he was Judas. Was it worth it? Five lives for forty coins, most of which got spent on drink anyway. He tried to keep Marian and Kioka safe – he hadn't mentioned them at all – but he knew eventually they would be found out, and that would make it seven lives. His thoughts returned to one person, to the one he kept promising himself he would never betray, whom he'd betrayed yet again. God, how could he betray Djaq? Will too, his best friend, almost his brother. And none of it was worth it – he wasn't any richer or cleverer, only a little more drunk every day. No, this wasn't what he wanted, but his life had never been fair. Maybe it was his fault after all. But he didn't want it to be his fault, it couldn't be his fault. All he wanted was to be happy. Why wasn't that enough? Why was it never enough?

Trying to ignore it all, pushing it all away, he began to walk towards the door. Marie was long gone, off to take care of her children like the good woman she wasn't. He wondered why she'd got so angry at him. But then, he supposed, she wanted to be happy too and that didn't seem to be happening any time soon. Everyone wanted to be happy. Maybe that was why it was so hard to get. It struck Allan that his 'quest', as he sometimes referred to it, just made everything worse. Maybe that was why Marie was so bitter – her life was just as wretched as his, all because they kept wanting to be happy. But what else was there?

A flash in the corner of his eye and she was there, pinning him against the wall. Dark eyes glittered as brightly as the knife at his throat and he choked, eyes widening. The blade pressed against his skin, the cold steel that was about to take his life from him in one move. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to die...Oh God. He was going to die. The Saracen girl was going to kill him and the worst part was..._he deserved it. _

"Please," he managed to force out. "Don't kill me." _Even though I've had it coming for a long time._

"You certainly deserve it," she hissed. Her eyes were pitch black, merciless – Allan wondered how he'd ever thought she was anything like Djaq because this woman was nothing like his trusting, forgiving friend. For the first time, Allan fully recognised the cold death in her eyes and he wished more than ever that she was Djaq. Because Djaq would give him a chance, but with Kioka...he'd lost already.

"Please," he pleaded, against all odds. "Let me explain. Please." Although there wasn't much to explain. What could he say? _You're right; I did betray them, even though I'm best friends with one and in love with the girl who's like a sister to you. And I di__d it all so I could be rich and because I got bored of living in a forest_Like that would help.

"Oh yes?" Kioka laughed coldly and he could see the blade reflected in her dark irises. "Give it a try then. This should be interesting."

"I...I..." For the first time in his life, Allan A Dale was lost for words. Kioka waited patiently for a few moments, unreadable eyes appraising him without any sign of judgement. Her expression was simply a cold blank and somehow that scared Allan more than anything else.

"I see," she said after a long silence. "So no explanation. I didn't think so." For a moment there was more silence, heavy with the weight of his life hanging in the balance. Allan couldn't believe he was going to die. He couldn't believe it. He supposed he should repent or something, but the damage was done. He'd never been anything worth saving and he supposed his luck had run out after Robin had last saved him. Not that it had done him much good...

Suddenly the blade was dropped and he sank to his knees, unable to breathe. Air filled his lungs as he took in the fact that, for now at least, he was alive. He didn't know how long he knelt there but when he looked up, Kioka was perched on a chair watching him with a curious expression he could not define. It was something like pity and...anger. The anger was still there. She spun a dagger between her fingers idly, the spiralling blade a circle of silver light in the gloom. When she saw he was paying attention she halted the blade with a single finger.

"Too much for you?" Kioka asked mockingly and Allan almost retorted before remembering the spinning blade. He held his tongue and she noticed. A flicker of a smile slipped across her features.

"Good boy," she murmured. "You have a lot to answer for, you know." Allan decided it was best to just respond to her question by nodding. His mouth seemed to get him in trouble. "Now, if you want to play spies I have no problem with that. However, you are messing with people I care about and that is _not _ok. For a start, you are making things difficult for the good guy - which is not ok either. Secondly, you are putting Marian in danger. She is my mistress and as such I have a _duty _to protect her. If it means killing you, I will do it. Finally – and most importantly – you are putting Djaq in danger. There is no way in heaven, hell or earth that you can get away with that. I will not have you toy with her heart while you give away the information that could get her killed. And again, if I have to slit your throat to protect her I will do so. Understand?" Allan nodded again. His heart was pounding. She would kill him, she would, and what was worse was that she had the right to. She had just explained that pretty clearly. "Now, before I do whatever I have to do, I want you to answer me a few things. Firstly: why are you doing this?"

"So I can be happy," Allan replied. Then, deciding this was not enough to win his life, he continued: "When King Richard comes back, Robin and Marian will reclaim their land, get married, have lots of children and go down in history. And as for me? No one will even remember my name. I'll die poor just like those we're 'helping'." Kioka made an ambivalent noise, beginning to spin the blade again. "At least with Gisborne I have a chance. I can be rich and have land and do anything I want."

"So your motive is greed, basically," Kioka stated. "You know as well as I do that Robin would've made sure you were well rewarded in the end. Don't use that as an excuse – you wanted an easy way out." Allan decided against protesting. "Anyway, second question: are you in love with Djaq?"

"...Yes," Allan admitted. He had decided to be honest because she looked like the sort of woman who could tell a lie from a mile off. "Yes, I am."

"And so you betray her?"

"I don't want to but I do anyway. I can't stop myself, even though I hate myself more for doing so. I do love her, you know." Kioka simply nodded, for some reason looking slightly bored.

"Alright. No more questions, as fun as they are. I have a...proposition to make you." Allan's eyes shot up.

"Really?" He asked hopefully. She nodded. "Thank you, thank you-"

"Hold on, you haven't heard it." An evil grin spread over her face. "You wanted to play spies, now you've got your chance. I want you to start visiting Gisborne more often. I want you to tell him what I tell you to say and nothing else. Furthermore, you will try and find out what you can from Gisborne and report back to me. I personally think it's quite reasonable – it's that or you die." Allan blinked. More spying...but for the right side this time.

"Alright then," he agreed slowly. He stood up cautiously, making sure she wasn't going to stab him as soon as his back was turned. "Thanks...for not killing me." Kioka shrugged.

"Djaq would miss you," she stated. "Now get a move on. They'll be wondering where we are. Oh, and one thing..." Allan froze, sure this was the part where she murdered him just as he let his guard down. "Don't tell anyone about our agreement, understand?" He nodded in relief. "Then we have an agreement." Kioka smiled, a slightly devious smile.

"Does this mean I get to live?" He asked hesitantly. She nodded.

"Yes, yes. Unless you break your promise. Oh, and hurt Djaq and I'll kill you. Other than that, you're safe for now. Deal?"

"Deal," he accepted. She stepped around him and opened the door, moving out into the streets. It was still raining and the skies had darkened surprisingly fast. Windows glowed in the stormy grey light, blurred by the rain against the few remaining window panes. Kioka's silhouette led the way through the narrow streets, the Saracen not even bothering to look back to see if he was following. Allan glanced over his shoulder at the tavern, fading into the night. The sign, swinging in the wind, caught his eye. 'The King's Man'. Ironic. Any other time and he might've found that funny.


	19. Carrying On

**Firstly, the hugest possible apology for the late update!! I feel awful!! I do have an excuse - my sister managed to get a virus which deleted all of my files that were in the latest Word format. So I had to rewrite this chapter, along with others for the other stories I've got going. Fun. Still, I'm so so so sorry for taking so long - I'll write faster this time. Please review, it honestly does help. Review Responses:**

KeepingAmused** - Haha! No, Kioka won't tell anyone - she doesn't want Djaq to find out because she thinks it will upset her. Thanks!**

Myth87 **- Originally, it was going to be Djaq that found Allan out, but it didn't quite work with the rest of the plot. So Kioka got to do the honours! Thank you! Characterisation is really hard, so it's good to know I'm doing well. Thank you!!**

elmlea** - Thank you! It was really just to show why Allan would fall for Djaq and not Kioka, you see. Thanks!**

Kates Master's Sister** -** **Thanks!**

Fwoggeh **- You're completely right. I did try to fix it but had a bit of trouble with switching the two and it just got a bit too complicated :P Thanks!!**

xXxSour-LemonxXx - **Thanks!**

butterflykisses71 **- I think we all do ;) Allan is _fun_. Seriously, he's one of my favourites to write. Thanks!**

**Prerequisite (another word for disclaimer :)): I do not own Robin Hood or anyone it at all, apart from the ones that I do own.**

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"_Bet you can't."_

"_Bet I can."_

"_Bet you can't."_

"_Bet I can."_

"_Bet you can't."_

"_I can!" Safiya protested, stamping her foot. The eight-year-old glared at her brother stubbornly. Ten-year-old Djaq smirked down at her. He'd suddenly shot up in a growth spurt that left Safiya standing three inches below him, much to her chagrin. The current argument had resulted over an increasingly wild game of Dare – Djaq had boasted that, with his friend Oban, he had walked the full length of the wall without falling off. Safiya had angrily stated that she could do that easily, much to Djaq's amusement._

"_You're just a little girl," he snorted. "You couldn't even climb the wall, let alone walk it."_

"_I'll prove it!" Safiya retorted defiantly. "Just you watch!"_

"_Go on then," Djaq replied lazily, pushing back his thick, black hair from his face with one hand. "I dare you to walk our wall." Safiya spun on her heel determinedly and strode up to the wall proudly. However, once she was standing at the foot and staring up, her resolve faltered. It towered above her, at least four times her height, and the little girl gulped. "What's wrong? Scared already?" Djaq jeered good-naturedly, watching his little sister in curious enjoyment._

_Safiya stuck her chin out stubbornly. It would be no good to give up _now_; Djaq would hold it over her for the rest of her life. She reached up and gripped the ivy firmly, using the strong vines as footholds to shimmy her way up the wall. Underneath her she could feel the distance and felt dizziness sway her but she _couldn't_ stop climbing. Otherwise she would fall. Finally she reached the top of the wall and swung one leg over the top. That was the first bit done. Safiya hoisted herself up so that she sat on the top. Then she made the mistake of looking down._

_The world below her swayed dangerously, seemingly tiny. Everything seemed a lot further down than she'd thought. Was she really that high up? Safiya swallowed, feeling a bit like crying. Not that she ever cried. Instead, she bit her lip and slowly stood up, wobbling perilously. The other side of the wall seemed very far away. Safiya began inching her way forwards, feeling a little bit more unsecure with every shuffle. The wind, which had seemed non-existent on the ground, felt like it was buffeting her in an attempt to send her falling. To her credit, she managed nearly eleven steps before tumbling with a shriek of pure terror and shock. The ground seemed to come flying up to meet her, the air rushing past like a storm. It only took a couple of short seconds._

_As it turned out, had she not gone so far, she probably would've cracked her skull open on the patio. Luckily for Safiya, her eleven steps had just pushed her into the garden, where instead of landing on stone she landed on a pile of grass clippings the gardener had forgotten to move. For a moment she was absolutely winded. Then, as the pain in her arm exploded, she opened her mouth and screamed. Djaq was yelling too but she couldn't hear him above her own wails and the roaring in _

_her ears. From her huddled, awkward position on the ground, she could just make out her father's legs running towards her._

"_Safiya! Safiya! What happened?" He yelled over both of his children but Safiya was in too much pain. Her arm hurt and so did her ankle, burning pain, and her arm was bent at a terrifying angle. Somewhere she could hear Djaq crying too and couldn't help thing, _serves him right. _Her father swept her up and practically ran across the garden to the house. Once inside, he laid her on the nearest table, which happened to be the one her aunt had given them for her father's birthday present. Jamal cursed as he surveyed the damage. "Allah! You children don't know when enough is enough!" He raced upstairs and came back several minutes later holding a steaming cup of an unrecognisable liquid. "Drink this, quickly..."_

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_When Safiya woke up again, she was in her own bed. The sunlight streamed through the light, gossamer curtains across her heavily bandaged right arm. Safiya blinked at the sudden brightness, for a second wondering how she got there. Then she remembered. Dare. Djaq. The wall. She swore colourfully, something she had picked up from Kioka's brother._

_"Use that language again and you're in trouble." Her father's voice drifted from the doorway and Safiya turned her head to look at him. "Not that you're not in trouble already. What, in Allah's name, possessed you to walk along the top of the wall?"_

_"Djaq told me to," Safiya answered honestly. She felt Djaq should take _some _responsibility for what happened; after all, she was the one that couldn't move her arm or ankle._

_"And you listened to him? I thought I had raised you with _some _sense." Jamal came and sat on his daughter's bed. _

_"It was a matter of pride," Safiya insisted._

_"Well, you'll notice Djaq isn't any worse off for it."_

_"He is! I did it! I proved him wrong!"_

_"Technically, you fell off," Djaq pointed out from the doorway. "So you didn't actually prove anything." He caught Jamal's look at winced. "Sorry. I'll leave you to it." He vanished into the hall. Safiya grinned impishly. Jamal frowned at her._

_"I'm being serious, Safi," he told her. "It was very stupid of you to put yourself in danger in order to prove your brother wrong. You could've been seriously injured – you could've even been killed. Now, that wouldn't have proven anything." Safiya reluctantly nodded. "So...consequences!" Safiya groaned. "Now, let's see...no more Dare. Anywhere. At our house, at Kioka's house – it's not allowed. And I'll think of some fun punishment for Djaq; yours is you have to _

_stay put for a very long time, what with that ankle of yours." Safiya pulled a face, staring longingly at the sunshine outside. "Don't give me that look – it was your own fault, silly girl."_

_Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Lady Clarissa Woodsen-Fitzwalter had always known she was born to be important. It was said that the Fitzwalters were descended from royalty and while this had never been apparent in her brother's case, Lady Clarissa had known from birth that she was set on the earth for the sheer purpose of controlling others. As a girl, a proud beauty who boasted blonde curls and cornflower blue eyes, she had watched her older brother Edward with distaste. He did _alright_ – he married a pretty girl from a fairly well-off family and became Sheriff of Nottingham – but the young Clarissa wanted more. Never one to let anything stand in her way, she threw herself straight into court life with admirable cunning. Using mainly her looks and her family's standing, she manipulated and tricked her way right up through the hierarchy in order to marry King Richard's second cousin, George. Once nearly all her goals were complete, Clarissa set about enjoying her life and creating a perfect set of children whom, she swore to herself, would take higher places in society than the rest of her family ever had.

At forty, she was no longer the stunning, fresh-faced maiden she had once been. Her blonde hair was thinning and fading in colour fast, her skin was wrinkling and her luxurious lifestyle had added more than a few inches to her waist. Still, none of her intelligence or remarkable slyness had been lost over the years, and neither had the look of malicious triumph in her hard blue eyes. Her eldest daughter, Serena, had proved to be a perfect child in every way; she had inherited her mother's captivating beauty and married one of the richest aristocrats in France. Normally Clarissa wouldn't have allowed one of her children to marry a _foreigner_, but seeing as the foreigner was third-in-line to the throne, she had made an exception. Her youngest, Roseanna, had been a bit of a mixed bucket; she too was breathtakingly beautiful and, to Clarissa's delight, viciously intelligent and cunning. However, she had a tendency to let her rather one-track mind govern her actions. Now, Clarissa actively encouraged ambition in all her daughters, but Roseanna seemed to have gone off on a wild scheme to control England together with a bunch of strange men in Nottingham. Still, Clarissa had decided to let her do what she liked. After all, when it came down to it she was only the youngest and therefore relatively unimportant.

She swept into the dining room majestically, seating herself at the table for breakfast. All the rooms in her estate were elaborately decorated, warm and spotlessly clean. From Roseanna's earlier letters, it seemed Nottingham had rather low standards of hygiene. Still, the strange girl seemed to like it there, and she had made some friends, although they were hardly the type of company her mother would've chosen for her. George looked up as she sat down before returning to his meal glumly. He'd always been a bit weak and, quite frankly, Clarissa didn't have time for weaklings. Her remaining daughters murmured their greetings into their food and Clarissa sighed pensively. She surveyed the rest of her brood pessimistically. Unlike the absentees, Eleanor, Christiana and Arabella had not managed to inherit their mother's good looks. Instead, they all had

the sallow, dark look of the Woodsen family. It honestly drove Clarissa to despair. How could they find good husbands looking like that?

"Any news from Serena?" She asked her husband loudly. George shook his head slowly. "Then any from Roseanna?" Eleanor pushed a piece of parchment across the table to her.

"The maid brought it in earlier, mother," the girl informed her respectfully, nodding her head of stringy black hair. Clarissa nodded, sighing inwardly. Poor child. She reminded her of her brother's daughter, Mary or something. Mary-Anne? Marian, that was it. She was a plain little thing, Clarissa recalled. Poor girl looked like her father – Edward had never been the handsome one in the family. She opened Roseanna's letter, clearing her throat.

"My dearest family," she began. It was their custom to read out all letters from family members at breakfast. "I hope you all are well. I myself am perfectly fine – I have been moved into a larger, more comfortable room following Marian's departure. On that front, no news; she has not been apprehended yet unfortunately." Clarissa paused to sigh deeply and the others, taking the hint, hurriedly looked down in an attempt to appear grieved. Her niece, a criminal. She supposed it was what happened when you lost your job and your soon-to-be successor gallivanted off to fight in a war: your only daughter turned into some sort of wild outlaw, on the run from the law and committing all sorts of misdeeds. "Hopefully she will be found soon – one cannot have outlaws running around all over the place, even if they are one's family. There is a reward up for her capture so we expect to get news soon. She'll be executed but I suppose that's her own fault."

"The Sheriff's plan is going very well and when it is complete, life will be far better for all of us. Don't think I'm giving up on our noble blood – when I am done with this place, the country will be my oyster. At any rate, I am expecting a marriage proposal from Sir Guy of Gisborne, Lord of Locksley, so expect something from him soon." The three girls sighed enviously and Clarissa frowned. Marriage? To someone from _Nottingham_? Surely her only other beautiful daughter had higher hopes than that. "Don't be too shocked or unimpressed. Our plan will make my future husband (when he proposes) and I incredibly rich and powerful. However, for this to become reality, I need you to send more gold. Robin Hood interrupted the last dispatch, so please send more soldiers." Clarissa had to note that, for all her fantasies, Roseanna was incredibly forward when it came to getting what she wanted. "Please send me word of Serena as well; I am longing to hear how she's getting on." Here, Clarissa had to fight to stop herself laughing sardonically. The rivalry between her eldest and youngest daughters had been clear all through their lives. "I look forward to receiving the gold and word of your welfare. With best wishes, your loving daughter Roseanna."

"Married!" Arabella squealed. The girl did tend to get over-excited far too easily. "Just think, married before the rest of us!"

"Indeed," Christiana noted sourly. Out of the three, Christiana was Clarissa's favourite – she may not have been beautiful but at least she was clever. "Which is not so promising for us, is it mother?"

"I assure you, I will find _all _of you suitable husbands," Clarissa frowned, thinking that that would be a sure feat and cost her a lot of money.

"It's so unfair," Eleanor moaned despondently. "How come Roseanna's allowed to go off to Nottingham and find a husband and we're not?"

"Because she's the youngest and therefore not important," Clarissa frowned. Not to mention, Roseanna could be a bit of a nuisance at home, always tricking her way in and out of things. "And stop whining, it'll give you wrinkles." Not, she reflected, that it would make much difference in Eleanor's face.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Stop stealing all the blankets, Allan."

"You always blame me! I didn't do anything!"

"You're doing it now!"

"Am not!"

"You are!

"I'm not being funny, but I'm two people down from you! How would _I_ steal _your_ blankets?"

"Well, then it's Kioka!"

"Exactly, so shut up Will."

"It's not _me_! I've barely got any!"

"Will you all just shut up?" Djaq's muffled voice drifted out from under her blankets, sounding extremely annoyed. "Some of us want to sleep tonight." She tried to bury her head further into her blankets, but living in a forest meant that bed linen was sparse at best, so there was only so much she could hide under.

"Sorry," the others chorused in various apologetic tones. Allan merely sounded a mix of tired and hyperactive, which usually happened after he'd spent the evening telling stories. Djaq sighed – that was the worst thing about having the bunk next to Allan. He never stopped _talking_. On the other side of her was Kioka, who had developed an unusual habit of curling up into a ball whilst sleeping so that the only thing Djaq could see of her was a mound of blankets. Will was behind her, Marian behind him, Robin behind her and John behind him. Much was behind Allan. The reason was watch duty – they were in the order by which they went up. It was John's turn at that point, so his bunk was empty.

"Djaq? Are you asleep?" Allan's voice hissed through the dark in his usual loud whisper. Everyone groaned.

"Talk about a stupid question," Kioka mumbled into her pillow sleepily.

"For goodness' sake, Allan, can't you be quiet for more than a minute?" Marian snapped into the night irritably. Robin snorted.

"Well, I'm not being funny but –"

"Allan!" Everyone yelled. The camp fell silent again, the only sound being the wind in the trees and eight peoples' breathing. Much shifted loudly, shuffling back and forwards on the wood. Then he sat up and started whacking the wooden bunk with his hand, making various disgruntled noises.

"Much, what _are_ you doing?" Robin asked, sounding amused.

"There's something hard sticking out! And it's uncomfortable too!" Much wailed, sounding extremely distressed. Marian huffed – the former noblewoman still hadn't quite got used to sleeping with eight other people. Will sighed and turned over, as did Djaq. Kioka groaned and attempted to retreat further into her mass of blankets. Allan made several impatient, frustrated noises, to everyone's amusement. Djaq gave a cough that sounded suspiciously like 'hypocrite' and Kioka snorted. "Well, how would you all like it if you were trying to get to sleep and something was sticking into your head painfully? It could be seriously dangerous! For all you know...oh, wait. It's just a spoon. Sorry!" Everyone groaned. "I _said_ sorry!"

"Just be quiet, Much," Robin sighed, though everyone could tell he was grinning. Marian prodded him in the ribs and he yelped. "What was that for?"

"Be quiet!"

"I was!"

"You were not!"

"I-"

"If anyone starts another, 'yes, you were', 'no, I wasn't', conversation, I will personally make it my mission in life to kill them," Djaq snarled. Allan started snickering and Djaq opened her mouth to snap at him, when Kioka cried out.

"Ow!"

"What?"

"I whacked my head on the board...sorry..."

"And you call yourself intelligent..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The first couple of weeks Will had been in the forest, Robin had had to wake him up every night when it was his turn for watch duty, so strange it was to have to wake up so late. So he was relatively surprised when Kioka appeared on the first night, looking exhausted but ready to take over. Her hair was unruly and she was rubbing her eyes and yawning, but she looked as alert as it was possible to be when you've only had a few hours sleep. At the time, he had accepted it and asked no questions, because prying wasn't something he enjoyed doing. Still, after several weeks of her appearing perfectly on time, he finally plucked up the courage to ask:

"How do you manage to wake up on time every night?" She blinked, running one hand through her hair and looking confused. He couldn't blame her – this would be the first time ever that they'd had a conversation when exchanging watch duties.

"What do you mean?" She asked in puzzlement. Will looked down, feeling foolish and wishing he'd never asked.

"What I mean to say is...you don't need to be woken up or anything. How can you just wake up yourself?" Kioka shrugged. Her expression was familiar, one that Will almost recognised. It danced on the edge of his mind but he couldn't put a name to it. She pulled the blanket she'd brought up tighter.

"It's just something I learnt to do," she replied, but she sounded like there was something she was holding back.

"Where?" Will pressed on. He was surprising himself by his boldness, but he decided to go with it.

"When I was being a maid," Kioka frowned, sounding slightly bewildered and...troubled? "It's not really important." Will hesitated. Normally he would've nodded hastily and back away, recognising the direct dismissal, but he couldn't help feeling curious. Kioka _never _sounded bothered by anything. So what was it that was so 'not important'? Something in his expression must've shown because she raised her eyebrows, looking surprised. "Why? What's got you so interested?"

"I just thought...never mind," Will shrugged, not daring to go any further in case he offended her. She frowned again, looking like there was something on her mind, but he turned to go. Five paces along, he stopped again. "Kioka?"

"Yes?" He looked over his shoulder to where she stood. The blanket was around her shoulders, her dark curls were loose and in a way she looked quite vulnerable. Anyone who knew Kioka knew that 'vulnerable' was hardly an accurate description, but Will couldn't help think that she looked it at that moment. "When you say you were being a maid...was that with the Woodsens?" He had her. She did a very good job of concealing it, but her jaw dropped slightly and her eyes widened. She pulled the blanket closer.

"I...yes, I suppose so. What made you think of that?"

"What made you react like that?" Will retorted honestly. That, if anything, surprised her even more. However, she turned away almost angrily.

"It doesn't matter," she answered sharply. Will hesitated, debating on whether to leave her to it. The normal half of him was telling him to walk away but the other half, the half that came from spending too much time with Allan, was telling him to go over and find out more. And Allan could be persistent at times. Will shifted awkwardly, wondering what to do. Funnily enough, Kioka helped him decide. "You're not going to let this go, are you?" She sighed. "Why do you care?"

"Why not?" Will shrugged. Kioka laughed wryly.

"Don't think it's anything amazing, mind you. It's more sentimental, so you probably won't understand."

"You won't know that until you tell me," Will pointed out.

"Wouldn't you rather sleep?"

"No." Kioka sighed resignedly, dropping onto the stump and beckoning for him to join her. Will did so, feeling slightly guilty for pressuring her. Still, the Allan side wanted more. "So what's the story?" She shook her head, smiling slightly.

"You'll think I'm silly by the end," she warned him. "I just...don't like talking about it much. Not because it was bad or anything – actually, I had some really good times there – but it was a hard time for me. You see, when I came over to England, I was deep in mourning. Djaq – the real Djaq, that is – had been killed around five months before. Amir, Safiya's father, had been killed two months after Djaq and, apparently, so had Safiya. Oh, by the way, you must excuse me calling her 'Safiya' – I forget sometimes. Anyway, two months after _that_, my oldest brother was killed as well. So I was sent to England for safekeeping, as it were, by a much faster route."

"How did you afford it?" Will interrupted. "Passage to the Holy Land costs a lot of money."

"I stowed away," Kioka answered smoothly. "It wasn't easy either. Luckily, my father had an old friend in England who managed to get me a position in the Woodsen household. I was there for about a year, maybe less, before I came here.

"It wasn't that anything awful happened there, or that the other servants were horrible, or that I had a generally bad time. Of course there were bad times, just like there were good times but. But those I'm fine with. It's just...at the time...it was a hard time for me. I had lost everything I knew and I was left to deal with it on my own, in a completely strange country. In a way, being at Woodsen was the hardest part of my life. But I learnt a lot." She smiled wanly, resting her chin on her knees. Will didn't know what to say.

"Was...was it nice there?" He asked lamely. Her smile grew slightly.

"It depends, I suppose," Kioka mused. "Her ladyship was a typical, self-obsessed noblewoman, although his lordship was alright. Serena was _awful_, but terribly beautiful all the same, just like Roseanna. Those two absolutely hated each other, you know. I think Roseanna always resented being the youngest, because even though she was just as beautiful as Serena and even cleverer, she was never really acknowledged. The other three are just as stuck up, only ugly. Not

even ugly, come to think of it, but compared to their sisters...We all used to laugh about that in the kitchens. Those were the fun times, with the other servants."

"Did you have friends there?" Kioka looked amused.

"Of course! I was there for a year, I wasn't just going to do my work and ignore everyone else. I made some wonderful friends. We were all in the same boat, you see, all servants being looked down on, so petty little arguments didn't matter so much. I had my favourites – Isabel, Laurel, Anna, Ruthie. And the footmen were hilarious! Jacob and Daniel, Nat and Adam." She grinned.

"So why not talk about it?" Will asked. Truth be told, he still didn't quite understand that part. Kioka sighed and shuffled slightly closer.

"Does Djaq talk about her past much, when she lived in the Holy Land?"

"No, I don't suppose so. Sometimes she mentions it, but very rarely."

"You see, the reason for that is because her family died there. She knows that, no matter what, everything she had there is in the past now and she has no way to reclaim it. My parents are still alive and I know that one day, no matter how long it takes, I will see them again. I can go back home because I have a home to go to, so it's much easier to talk about it. But I made the decision to leave behind everything I had in England when I followed Marian here. I don't regret it, definitely not. But I had to abandon things that were very important to me, bonds that I never wanted to break. Being there...a lot happened there that made me what I am today and being there was, in a way the best and worst times of my life. So, to know that it's all behind me...it was my choice, but it doesn't mean I'm glad of it." She looked subdued, her eyes downcast. Will didn't know what to say to break the awful silence that stretched between them. Then, unexpectedly, she grinned. "But oh well! That's all in the past, which as a rule I don't dwell on. You nearly made me break one of my own rules, Master Scarlet."

"Erm...sorry?" Will blinked, completely thrown by her sudden mood swing. He supposed he should've expected it, seeing as it was Kioka, but she always managed to confuse him somehow. She giggled, arms wrapped around her knees.

"Ah, you're too much fun to tease," she told him. "I don't think it's good that I get so much enjoyment out of doing so."

"That was all teasing?" Will asked, feeling slightly cheated. Kioka's eyes widened.

"No!" She exclaimed. "Of course not – I wasn't _lying_. It was true, it's just...I don't like spending too much time thinking about the negative. Understand?" Will didn't but he nodded anyway and she seemed to accept that. "Don't you want to sleep tonight?"

"If you're alright up here on your own..." She looked at him, her expression a mix between amused and thoughtful.

"It's never been a problem before," she pointed out. He looked away, feeling embarrassed again. Sensing his discomfort, she added gently: "Still, it was kind of you to offer. I may actually take you up on that someday but as for tonight, I'll be fine on my own."


End file.
